A TombKeeper's Lot
by ArtisteFish
Summary: It was the duty of the Ishtar siblings to inform their clan that the pharaoh had been found; but Marik had never wanted to return to those tunnels, and now he may never escape. COMPLETED
1. Chapter 1

A Tomb Keepers Lot: Chapter 1

Marik shifted uncomfortably as he gazed out of the car window, the endless sands of the Egyptian desert stretching to the horizon, broken only by the silhouettes of dunes and an occasional palm tree.

A murmur of voices from the front of the car drew his eyes towards his brother and sister quietly talking as his brother drove. He smiled as he watched them, happy to have them near, but his smile faltered as his thoughts turned to the matters pressing on his mind.

They had almost reached the Valley of the Kings, where nearby lay the underground home of the tomb keepers – the home of his family.

But there was no peace or love in that home. In fact Marik had no desire to go back there - to those twisting, dark, musty catacombs where he had suffered so much torment as a child.

He looked at his sister Ishizu, who was sitting calmly and staring straight ahead towards their destination. Just looking at her made him want to chastise himself for being so selfish. It didn't matter if he wanted to go back or not – they had to inform their tomb keeper family that their centuries long mission was almost complete.

Since the days of the Pharoah the Ishtar family had guarded two of the ancient Millenium Items that had given the Pharaoh and his court power, as well as the secrets to the mind and memories of the ancient King, whose actions to save the world had cost him everything, including his memories.

Marik knew that even after he, the heir to the clan, and his siblings were gone, the remaining clan members would still be hard at work protecting the tomb of the ancient Pharaoh, even if they no longer possessed the secret key to his memories which had been their most important lot to protect.

'Or more specifically, my lot to protect', he thought bitterly, the scar on his back itching as memories flooded his mind – memories of darkness, his father betraying him, binding him to a table, and then the searing pain of a hot knife mercilessly slicing his back as it carved intricate symbols into his flesh.

The pain had been unbearable, and in the cold dark of the tombs, as Marik tried desperately to live through the torment, something was being born in his mind – something festering and hate-filled, wanting nothing more than to cause pain and torment for no other reason than the thrill it brought.

He twitched and subconsciously moved to rub his back. He had never wanted these marks, but as the first born son of a tombkeeper… he had no choice.

He was destined to bear the key to the long dead pharaohs memories imprinted on his back until the time came for the pharaoh to use it.

And as far as he had known, that was never going to happen.

So he did the only thing that made sense – he snuck out of that horrid grave with his sister and explored the outside world for the first time in his short life.

And because of that, his father tortured his older brother, Odion, because he had helped his little brother see the sun for the first time.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if they had left it at that; if their father had simply punished or tortured them – they might have been spared the years of anguish that followed that day; The day the evil that had been brewing in Marik's head broke free, and in a haze of pain and cruel delight he murdered his father and stole one of the legendary items he had sworn his life to protect.

It had been six years since then, and he hadn't returned to those caves since.

In fact, the rest of his clan hadn't seen him or his siblings since he ran off that day, his siblings chasing after him – chasing him for years, until finally their efforts at turning his heart back to what it once was were rewarded.

But the rest of his family … they were a completely different story.

Marik hoped that somehow they would find it in them to forgive him his crimes, but he knew that this was just a fool's hope.

He had betrayed the clan.

Disgraced his family.

And that was unpardonable.

'Still', he thought, 'I am the heir to the clan. That gives me at least a tiny bit of power over them. I may not deserve it, but they're bound by tradition to at least hear me out…. They have to.' With an ever sinking feeling, Marik leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, willing himself to calm down before the inevitable encounter.

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><p>*Author's Note as of 115/13

Made a few minor changes to this first chapter - finally figured out how to edit old chapters without uploading a whole new doc.

Thank Heaven.

They're not very big changes, so even if you've read the old version, you might not notice. Or you might. They were kind of important changes.

Anyways, this first chapter is short and kind of just setup for the story, so please, give it a chance and read on!


	2. Chapter 2

"Marik. Marik, we're here."

Ishizu gently shook her brother from the front seat, the teenager moaning softly as he regained awareness.

Sleepily he stretched and rubbed his face, blinking up at his sister through bleary lavender eyes.

"That time already sis?"

Ishizu smiled wearily and nodded. Marik could tell she was as apprehensive about this meeting as he was – and he was feeling worse by the minute.

He jumped slightly at a touch on his shoulder, but found it was only Odion leaning into the open car door to help his tired brother out. Marik smiled up at his dear brother and managed to drag himself out of the car and into the cold desert night.

He shivered slightly as a biting wind blew past him, and gratefully accepted the leather jacket Ishizu offered him as she and Odion wrapped themselves in jackets and shawls.

Marik turned and gazed out over the expanse of desert, to where he knew quite well was the trapdoor leading to the Tomb keeper's underground dwelling. They had parked their rental van far enough from the entrance so as not to alarm the people under the sand, but Marik found that the extra walk was testing his will to actually make it to the opening.

As he stared across the expanse, he could swear he saw dark shapes on the ground ahead; writhing, twisting shadows creeping across the sands towards them; for one terrifying second Marik imagined he saw his own figure, though distorted and horrific, with a glowing golden eye on its head, but he blinked and it was gone.

He felt Odion and Ishizu walk up to him, and instinctively reached shaking fingers to grasp for their hands.

"Akh… Ukht."

His siblings turned to him as he addressed them, both troubled by the fear seeping into his voice.

He sounded just like a little child.

Marik squeezed their hands and turned to look at each in turn.

"You've both done so much for me… I know I don't deserve any of it… but, please… don't leave my side. I know I have to do this, but I don't know… If it turns out I can't take it – I lose my nerve or breakdown – well, just… don't leave me alone." he finished, scrunching his eyes closed as he turned away from the expanse of desert.

Ishizu smiled and wrapped her baby brother in a hug as Odion held onto them both.

"Do not worry Akhee," Ishizu said lightly, "we will never leave you. We haven't left this whole time."

"And nothing will happen to you while we are here" Odion added, his strong presence bringing comfort to both of his siblings. Marik smiled warmly at both of them, some of his fears subsiding, and then moved away towards the entrance of the old tomb. "Let's go then," he said, his eyes fixed on their target, "we have to tell our family the big news."

The three Ishtar siblings approached the trapdoor cautiously. They knew full well that although it was night, the tomb keepers were wide awake for their duties. Plus, there was always the chance that the tomb keepers had heard their car and were at the ready to attack.

No matter. They had come this far – there was no backing out now.

Marik glanced back at Ishizu, who nodded, and then reached down to pull on the rusty rings that would open the doorway to the underground city.

The door lifted slowly and silently, until suddenly there was a click as the alarm mechanism, which had foiled Marik's escape attempt as a child, was released from beneath the door. The sound reverberated through the dark stairwell and filtered into the cold air.

He looked back furtively at his siblings, who stepped forward to help him open the door the rest of the way and descend into the dark. Odion closed the opening back up as they went lower, though by now there was no hiding their entry.

They walked in complete darkness, but Marik knew the way by heart, and judging from the steady sounds behind him, his siblings knew the way as well.

They had only been walking for a few minutes when Marik began to see dark shapes moving across the walls, darker than the pitch black around them.

He was about to mention the anomaly to his siblings, when suddenly he was grabbed roughly from behind and gagged. Fear overcame him as he was carried along the passageway.

He could hear Ishizu's muffled screams and Odion's protests, and wondered how anyone as strong as Odion could be captured so easily.

Though slightly disoriented by the darkness and rough handling of his captors, Marik could tell from the twists and turns they were taking that the three of them were being herded towards the guard's chamber. He saw a faint glow coming from a bend in the tunnel, and as they turned found a torch lit passageway, at the end of which was the guard's room as he had suspected.

Still holding firm to their prisoners, the guards shoved them through the doorway into a dimly lit room, where a tall man stood half shrouded in shadow, watching the trespassers stumble into the center of the room.

"Well now," the man snarled, his deep, gravelly voice echoing off the stone walls of the chamber, "What have we here? Robbers come to steal the Pharaoh's gold? Desert rats looking for some food? You'll find no such things here."

The authority in the man's voice made it only too certain that he was the guard in charge, as did the golden accents on his leather armor; Marik recognized the ceremonial garb, though he had never seen the man currently wearing it.

In fact, Marik didn't recognize any of the guards in the chamber. True, he had not been in these caves since he was a child, but everyone in the tunnels was family. Outsiders were not permitted. Unless these guards were younger than him (which they obviously weren't from their size) he would have met them at some point.

Also puzzling to Marik was the fact that the man before him was speaking in Arabic; not Egyptian. And although Marik had learned both languages (as well as a few others) in his upbringing as the son of the Tomb-keeper, mere guards would never have had access to that education.

Something was wrong.

The guard stepped out of the shadows, and his wide face, trimmed with a dark beard, was scrunched up in a harsh grimace as he said in a commanding voice "Search them!"

Marik shied away from the hands of his captors as they felt for weapons. Ishizu cried out through her gag as she was harshly searched by grinning guards, and both Marik and Odion struggled against their bonds to protect their sister.

The head guard laughed and waved her guards away, coming to stand in front of her.

"Now what would such a lovely woman be doing out in the desert with these petty thieves?" He sneered, looking her up and down. She leveled a stare back at him, and he frowned, apparently put-off by her bold gesture.

The guard tore his eyes away from Ishizu's, and turned to stare at her brothers.

Peering at the two, he raised a dark eyebrow at Marik's shock of blonde hair and leather jacket. His face showed contempt as he appraised the youngest of the three. "Hm. Foreign are we? Pah!"

Marik fumed. 'Try pure inbred Egyptian, you idiot! If you were actually part of this clan we'd be related' He growled but could do no more – the guards had no intention of removing the gags.

The man moved past him to inspect Odion, paying special attention to the hieroglyphs carved into the skin.

He appeared to be reading them, though Marik suspected from the furrow in his brow that he was having some trouble understanding what they said. Odion stood tall and firm, avoiding the intrusive gaze.

Suddenly the guards eyes flew wide and his expression turned fierce.

"YOU! Who are you? Why do you have the sacred name of the Ishtar clan on your person?"

He turned upon the other two, his eyes livid.

"And what about you two! Blasphemous rats! How dare you desecrate the noble Ishtar name and defile this tomb with your presence!"

Marik glared at the hypocritical statement, but made no other move.

If they were found to be guilty of heresy, they would be killed on the spot.

He struggled to speak through the gag, but it was no use. The guard continued to shout at his prisoners, throwing curses in Arabic at all three of them, when suddenly a second voice boomed into the chamber.

"What in the mighty name of RA is going on in here?"

The clatter stopped abruptly, and all eyes turned towards the doorway, where an older man stood hunched, his hands bracing the doorframe.

"Sir", started the head guard, bowing slightly to the man, "we found these outlandish people trespassing in our tunnels, and now they are spreading blasphemies and –"

"I highly doubt that Badru", the man said gruffly, "Considering they are unable to speak."

The man called Badru scrunched up his face as he held back a retort, and went back to glaring at the intruders.

But Marik hardly noticed.

For a moment he thought he was staring at his long-dead father, the father his darker-self had killed in cold blood – but no.

This man had a softer look, despite his scowling features, and his hair was a greyed-black – not the sandy blonde that had been passed to Marik.

'Fenuku!' He called in his mind, 'Uncle! It's us! Don't you recognize us?'

The man peered over at Marik and his siblings, taking in their appearance each in turn. As he glanced from one to the other his look changed, as the pieces started to fall into place in his mind.

Suddenly his eyes grew wide and he cried out in surprise, rushing over to grab Marik by the shoulders and scrutinize his face.

He glanced from Odion to Ishizu and back to Marik to confirm his suspicions and stepped back, shouting "BADRU! Have your overactive guards release these three at once!"

The guards stood still for a moment wondering what to do, and even Badru seemed frozen, but he shook off his stupor and commanded them to obey.

As soon as his bonds and gag were released, Marik turned to assure that his siblings were alright before proceeding to kick his guards in the shins and punch out the ones that had touched Ishizu. Enraged, the remaining guards moved to attack, but with a wave of a hand from Fenuku retreated, grumbling, into the shadows.

Odion had managed to grab hold of the rampaging Marik, though he himself had aided in downing Ishizu's captors, but Fenuku only laughed as he watched the riot.

"Quite a spirit you've got, son! Of course, you always did."

He turned to address the remaining guards and Badru, who looked furious about his men being attacked.

"You really can't blame them you know," he said with half-hidden amusement, "after all; the penalty _is_ death for attacking the Ishtar heir!"

Badru was stunned, barely managing to stutter out "But what… you mean… what're you –"

Marik took a deep breath, then stepped forward boldly, squaring his shoulders and lifting his head; his face was neutral, but inside he wanted nothing more than to grab his siblings and leave.

"I am Marik Ishtar, son of Okpara Ishtar, heir to the Tomb keeper's clan and bearer of the Pharaoh's secret."

Badru was now truly speechless, the blood draining from his face as he realized the gravity of his actions.

In a last ditch attempt to save himself, he glared at Marik and spat "PROVE IT!"

Marik hesitated, unsure of whether or not this stranger really knew about the mark on his back, but started to move a hand to his jacket anyway.

He was stopped by his uncle however, who said "The heir to the Ishtar clan has no need to prove himself. One such as you is not worthy to behold the Pharaoh's secret."

The guard backed off, but his eyes gleamed with hatred for the former intruders.

Relieved at their rescue, Marik turned to Fenuku, gratitude and happiness shining in his eyes.

"Uncle… we are indebted to you!"

Fenuku smiled and shook his head.

"I am but a servant of the Ishtar heir. There is no reason to thank me."

He turned a knowing glance back at Odion, who had once himself lived in servitude to those he now considered family.

Ishizu placed a comforting hand on her older brother's arm and turned meekly towards her uncle, saying softly and humbly "My lord uncle… we come with glad tidings for the Tomb keepers clan."

"Say no more Lady Ishizu," he said, his tone firm yet respectful. Ishizu's face lifted and her eyes widened at what was the most recognition she had ever received from anyone but her brothers within that dark tomb.

"I am not the one to deliver this message to. Come, all of you, we will see the Tomb keeper's chief."

Marik turned to his Uncle, his face brightening; the chief, another uncle, had always been level headed, if not a bit intimidating.

"Ah, Uncle Najja! How is he?"

Fenuku turned away from him and started for the door.

"I am grieved to have to correct you," he said solemnly, walking slowly out of the chamber with the three siblings in tow, "but Lord Najja is no longer in charge here. He is dead these four years."

Marik paused. His uncle hadn't been that old. "Well, who's in charge now? Weren't you next in line Uncle?"

Fenuku laughed humorlessly, keeping his eyes facing forward into the darkness as he said "No, not anymore. You'll find Master Marik, blood isn't as strong down here as it used to be. Don't be surprised if you do not recognize as many faces as you would expect; the order of things has changed since you and your siblings left, and I'm afraid it hasn't changed for the better.

* * *

><p>*Author's Note:<p>

Okay, finally got another chapter edited and finished, and now I think I *really* have a clear view of where this is headed. I wasn't sure when I started this just what was going to happen, but while editing this chapter, it just came to me! So hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to upload as this did, but we'll see. Just because I know where the story is going doesn't mean it'll get there fast.

Oh, and a little note on the Tomb-keeper positions and OC's and stuff: I actually got the idea from the "Grave-keepers" set of Yugioh cards, which I found descriptions of online. Basically, it's a set with cards like "Grave-keeper's Chief", "Grave-keeper's Spy", "Grave-keeper's Assassin" and so on. I thought it was pretty awesome, and I figured "these guys need to be made into actual characters. I'm gonna make them into Marik's family". So I did. Thus you have this story.

So they're not *completely* OC's. They are inspired by actual Yugioh... er... things. Kind-of-characters. Or something.

And the names are Egyptian. If you look 'em up, the meanings may tell you some more about the characters! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 of "A Tomb Keeper's Lot"

Now we're getting somewhere!

* * *

><p>It didn't make any sense.<p>

Here he was in the middle of the Tomb-keeper Chief's grand stone room, the same stone chair in which his late uncle sat set against the far wall, with guards in the same ceremonial wear he had seen as a child standing on either side of the seat; but the man in that chair was one Marik had never seen before.

He looked to be much younger than Fenuku, but still older than Odion. His square jaw was rimmed with a dark black beard, and equally dark brows were stretched above his eyes. He was draped with a black robe – drastically different from the Egyptian cotton robes worn by most in the tomb – and he held a golden staff in his hand. He possessed no markings under his eyes as direct descendants of the Ishtar line usually did, and there were no additional distinguishing characteristics.

He didn't look like any member of the Ishtar family.

Marik wasn't sure what to make of this trend; he had expected that, upon his return, all of his old family members would still be there, taking care of the Pharoah's tomb and treasures.

It was still a full time job, even in the present day and age.

Tomb Robbers didn't just die out afterall.

But yet again, here was a face that he could not identify, and one that seemingly did not recognize him either.

The man in the chair sat regarding the three strangers as they stood with Fenuku in the chamber. His eyebrows curved in confusion over his deep brown eyes as he said in Arabic "And just who have you brought me Fenuku?"

Fenuku bowed his head slightly, though Marik noticed that his eyes never left the chief.

"The Ishtar heir has returned home, sir."

The change on the man's face was almost imperceptible, but a slight twitch of the lip and blink of his eyes betrayed his shock underneath the cool façade.

"Really?" he said, his tone full of false politeness. "And have you verified this to be true, Fenuku?"

Fenuku's head lifted slightly to glare at the chief, not bothering to mask his hostility as he said "I know my own family."

The Chief regarded Fenuku with a smirk, sarcasm lacing his voice as he said quietly "Of course you do."

His attention then turned to Marik and his siblings.

"So, this" he paused to stare hard into Marik's face, "is the heir to the Ishtar clan. I must say, you are… not what I expected."

Marik stared back into the Chief's face, a frown set hard upon his face.

"Who are you?"

Fenuku started in shock, staring at Marik for his brazenness.

It seemed he had asked something taboo, as even the Chief couldn't hide the shock and slight anger on his face.

That was fine with Marik.

He was sick of this whole charade.

The Chief sat up straight and looked down his nose at the three Ishtar siblings, saying "I am the Chief of the Tomb Keepers clan. That is all you need know.

Marik shook his head with a wry smile.

"No, that's just not true. I know how the system works. The Chief must be an Ishtar son after the first born, which used to be Uncle Najja, and should now be Uncle Fenuku. For some strange reason though, he's not the Chief. And you" he said loudly, pointing accusingly at the chief, "are not even a member of this family."

The Chief's eye twitched and his hands gripped the arm rests of his great chair, but he managed to still smile nonchalantly.

"Even if that _were_ the case, _young sir_, how would you know whether I am family or not?" His smile turned into a smirk and he said "you were gone for a long time".

Marik didn't even blink.

"I knew everyone in this tomb. I had to, and so did everyone else. Outsiders were not allowed, and our population was closely monitored. Even if you were younger than me, which you obviously aren't, you would have to be under ten years old for me to not be aware of you. Besides", he smirked broadly, "everyone had to know who I was so that they knew not to hurt me. Afterall, I carry the Pharaoh's legacy."

By this point the Chief's face was set in a hateful grimace, though he still kept his rage contained to gripping his chair. He would not lose control now.

"Very well, _Master_" he all but spit the word, "It is true I was not present while you lived here. But I am family. Your uncle Najja was my father."

Marik opened his mouth to protest, but the Chief cut him off: "Not everyone in this tomb was as guarded as you. Others could leave this place, and often needed to, to keep supplies up. Of course, there are other needs besides food and water for those who live underground. My mother lived in the nearby village, and soon became a… liaison between my father and the outside world. I lived in the village with her, but before my father's death, he came to us and appointed me Chief, as he explained that Fenuku here would not be able to fulfill the necessary duties of the position."

He spread his arms wide, and Marik saw the modern collared shirt and slacks underneath the ceremonial robe draped over his form.

"So here I am."

Now it was Marik's turn to be shocked.

It was an outrageous story! Why would his uncle have done such a thing, and how could it have been allowed! His father would never have approved of such conduct; but then again, his father did not have power over the Chief.

Still, he couldn't believe that that was the whole story.

"Now," the Chief said smugly, back in control as he liked, "why is it you've come back, after so shamefully abandoning your kin and running off with the Pharaoh's secret?"

Marik shrank at the accusations, having forgotten in his anger why it was he was here, and what repercussions might have followed his departure all those years ago.

He ached to reach for his siblings hands, but instead forced himself to step forward.

"We have found the Pharaoh."

The Chief's eyebrows raised slightly, his look incredulous, but beside Marik his uncle gave a gasp and turned to stare in wonder at his nephew.

However, the Chief was not as impressed.

"What do you mean you found the Pharaoh? His tomb is here. He's been dead for thousands of years."

Fenuku turned to face him, his figure tall and imposing as he stood straight, his face proud as he said, "_We Tomb Keepers_ have known since the days of the Pharaohs that the nameless Pharaoh whom _we_ serve would one day return to this earth in need of his memories and his power. Every Tomb Keeper knows that we guard not only his tomb but his memories which he gave up in order to save the world. And Master Marik…" he turned once again to Marik, and his misting eyes were full of hope and amazement, "Master Marik has at last found our Pharaoh?"

Marik smiled softly at his uncle, nodding his head resolutely. "He has returned. And… I have delivered to him the secret to his memories which I possess, as well as the two Millenium Items passed down through our family."

The old tomb keeper was overcome. With a choked sob he fell to the ground at Marik's feet, whispering one heartfelt thank you after another.

Marik dropped to the ground as well, placing reassuring hands on his uncle's shoulders. "We're not done yet uncle. The Pharaoh must still return to his homeland to fully unlock his memories."

Fenuku lifted his face to gaze into Marik's soft lavender eyes.

"And when he comes home, we must be ready to help him on his final journey to the afterlife."

After a moment Fenuku's face hardened in determination, and he nodded.

"Yes. We will truly fulfill the mission of our ancestors. We _will_ be ready for the Pharaoh."

He turned back to the Chief, who sat confused and forgotten on his throne, and Fenuku, even on his knees, looked like more of a ruler than the other.

"I will gather the remainder of this clan" he said strongly, "and we will prepare this place and the sacred records for the arrival of the Pharaoh."

The Chief looked positively livid.

"YOU will not give _orders_! I am in charge of this place, and _I_ will make the decisions! This so called "Pharaoh" is no doubt a charlatan looking to gain the treasures of an ancient king, and I will not stand for some traitor to the clan giving away our precious secrets and possessions to a mad man!"

Marik was fuming; while he could handle being called a traitor, he was enraged to hear the Pharaoh spoken of so disrespectfully. The Pharaoh had believed in him and tried to help him even when the situation seemed impossible. Despite the resentment he had felt for so long, he owed the Pharaoh his life, and the blessing he now had to be with this family.

This man knew nothing of the Tomb Keepers and their mission.

He knew nothing of the Pharaoh.

Marik was ready to give this man a piece of his mind, but it seemed his uncle was not done yet.

"You shall NOT talk to the Ishtar heir in that manner. He has fulfilled his calling, and as such is to be honored."

"Heh. Honored." The Chief chuckled derisively. "He has returned to this place and wishes to still be counted as a member of this clan, so he shall be subject to the rules of the Tomb Keepers just as any other person here."

Fenuku was outraged. "You are forbidden to harm the Ishtar heir!"

"Who said anything about harming him? But he must be punished. He shall be kept here and not be allowed to go to the surface – as he should have been when he was younger."

Marik could not believe what he was hearing. His face went white as cotton robes, all of his fears when he first arrived resurfacing.

"You… you mean… I'm a prisoner here?"

"Oh, I wouldn't think of it that way. Consider it… house arrest."

His grin stretched from ear to ear now, and Marik wanted nothing more than to charge up to him and wipe that grin off of his stupid face, but warring with this urge was the ever-increasing fear of imprisonment; the same feeling he had experienced often as a child.

He felt so trapped and alone and afraid; like he was ten years old all over again.

He never should have come back.

"Now then, my guards will escort you to your new room; I assume you will cooperate so that we can make sure no harm comes to the heir. As for your companions…"

Marik's mouth went dry. He hadn't even thought about what might happen to them! He cursed himself harshly, but shouted in earnest "Leave them alone! They're my siblings!"

The Chief's face lit up as though he had just been presented with a gift. "Are they? I could have sworn they were your servants. Interesting. I suppose that means they were accomplices to your escape before? Then you –" he turned towards Odion, "will receive the same punishment as your…heh… brother."

Odion glared but said nothing. He was more than willing to share in Marik's punishment.

He would have stayed with him regardless.

Marik stared wordlessly, trying to formulate a response, to tell him he need not be punished as well, but some small part of him was glad that he would still have his brother.

But Ishizu –

"And as for you," the Chief was openly leering at Ishizu, and despite the strong woman she was, she found herself moving back towards her brothers, who held onto her protectively.

"I do believe that any Ishtar daughters were to be given to one of the heads of the clan to continue the line of heirs; If I am not mistaken, that now includes myself."

"You _are_ mistaken!" Marik spat hatefully. This man would _not _touch his sister. "You don't belong to this clan, and Ishizu is free to make her own decisions. So leave. Her. Alone."

"Heh… heheh…. Hahahaha! What a protective brother you are! Tell me, were you planning on keeping her for yourself? You would not be the first Egyptian to carry on in the great tradition of Osiris and Isis. We must keep the bloodline pure afterall!"

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore.

With a cry of rage he barreled towards the smug man in the stone chair, trying to clamber over the guards as they stood with their spears crossed to block his path.

The Chief only laughed mockingly.

Odion rushed to his side to draw him back, as he threw any and every Egyptian curse he knew at the Chief.

He wished he knew curses in Arabic as well, but he knew only what had been taught to him in the tombs and what he required to get by in modern Egypt.

So he threw in a few in English to make up for it.

Odion's attempts to calm his raging brother were just starting to work (though this was done more to protect Marik from getting hurt than to stop him – he didn't blame Marik in the least) when they heard the horrid sound of their sister crying out in fear.

"ISHIZU!"

They turned to see her flanked by guards who were already ushering her out of the door and down a hallway.

Marik and Odion both started to give chase, but were intercepted by a group of large, armed guards who had seemed to emerge from the shadows.

"Oh don't worry," the Chief said calmly, "she's being taken to stay with the rest of my women. She will be fine."

"Fine? FINE?! You bring her back right now, and let us go!"

"You would do well to listen to us," and Marik was surprised to hear the deep, now hostile, tones of his older brother, whose concern for Ishizu had prompted him to disregard status and threaten his 'superior', saying "we will not be held responsible for what happens to you or your men if she is harmed in _any_ way."

"You are going too far with this," Fenuku said, coming to stand by Marik and Odion, "the Ishtar heir is entitled to – "

"ENOUGH!"

The Chief's commanding voice echoed off the stone walls of the chamber, and even Marik stopped struggling for a moment.

"I've heard just about enough from you Fenuku! It seems you are in need of the same treatment as your beloved 'heir'. And as far as you're concerned, _heir_, you're just a weak little boy who happens to carry the key to a great power. Unlucky for you, it is not necessary for you to be alive for me to retrieve that key!"

A sudden cry from beside him drew his eyes in time to see his dear brother slump forward in the guards hold, and before he could even call Odion's name, there was a solid crack against the back of his head, and he knew no more.

* * *

><p>*Author's Note: Yeah, good old-fashioned cliff-hanger.<p>

I'm really excited about this one now, so don't worry; it'll get done.

I think I'll start writing the next chapter tonight (there's a lot introduced in this chapter that has yet to be explained), so keep an eye out for yet another chapter of this on the horizon!

Huzzah!

And no, I don't approve of incest in any way shape or form, but watching a show on Tutankhamen and ancient Egypt on history channel the other day brought to my attention that *MOST* Egyptian royals practiced incest. They had several wives usually anyways, and often they were sisters or half sisters, so that the royal blood would not be diluted or something.

And apparently Tutankhamen and his sister (half-sister?) were head over heels in love with each other; Osiris and Isis (ancient Egyptian deities to whom I make reference) were brother and sister as well and ended up giving birth to other Egyptian gods, so yeah, not very strange in ancient Egypt.

And what with the Ishtar family living underground for CENTURIES and knowing only the culture of ancient Egypt and mostly not being able to go to the surface, I imagine inbreeding and incest were fairly common.

I mean come on, blonde hair and purple eyes? Not to mention psychotic tendencies and dissociative identity disorder.

But hey, I'm an artist, not a history major, and I'm well aware it's just a show, but it's really, REALLY fun to over-analyze shows like this.

It's what fan fiction is for.

So anyways, stay tuned for next time, when all your questions shall be answered! Well, I hope anyways. :3


	4. Chapter 4

A Tomb-Keeper's Lot, Chapter 4

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><p>Marik awoke with a terrible throbbing in his head, unsure of where he was and confused on what had happened.<p>

He distantly knew that the last place he had been was in his underground home; as he thought back, memories started surfacing of seeing his uncle, his talk with the Chief, his sentencing to be a captive of his own family, of Ishizu being carried away - ISHIZU!

Quickly Marik sprung to his feet, but his head was not ready for his movement and he slumped down again as white spots swam before his eyes.

Before he could hit the ground however, he was caught by a strong pair of arms, and a deep voice said "Careful my brother, you have not yet regained your strength."

Once again Marik was hit by a wave of dizziness as he spun in his brother's arms to face him.

His eyes were pleading, his face showing despair.

"Odion… Ishizu! That- that horrible man has our sister! We have to go save her Odion!"

"We will Marik, and soon. But… there is a complication."

Marik gave his brother a questioning look. What could possibly be problematic enough that it could keep them from helping their sister?

Odion simply gestured towards the surrounding room.

Marik looked – and froze in horror.

There were several stone slabs lined up in rows in the middle of the room, each surrounded by trays of sharp utensils and surrounded by jars and pots, and strewn around the room were dozens of stone sarcophagi, open and waiting for bodies to be placed in them.

This was the embalming chamber.

The mummification room.

He couldn't tear his eyes away. He had always known this room existed, and that past heirs of the clan had been mummified after their deaths to preserve the sacred marks on their bodies and allow them to live on in the afterlife, but he had only seen it once, for it was a dangerous place to go.

Already he could smell the strange ointments and oils used in the embalming process, and were it not for the fires burning in torches along the walls, the fumes would have long since choked him.

But the worst part of the room was that it was so easy to become trapped.

It was one of the few places in all of the tombs to have a door, and the only one that was not made of wood.

The door, a heavy slab of solid rock, opened inward and fit the door jam in a jigsaw manner, with the wider part of the door on the inside as it narrowed towards the tunnels on the other side.

It could not be pushed from the inside, but was also too heavy to pull.

The only way anyone was able to enter was for several men to push the door inward, then hook a rope to it so that it could be pulled closed again once everyone was out. There was always a door jamb when someone was inside.

There was no door jamb now.

"Odion," he asked quietly, "What is the meaning of this? Are they trying to bury us alive?"

"It's alright Marik, I believe they are only trying to scare us."

Marik ran a shaky hand through his wild blonde bangs, breathing raggedly. "Yeah, well… it's working."

Odion smiled sadly, gathering his brother to him in a reassuring hug, and Marik could do nothing but hug him back and squeeze his eyes shut.

A crashing sound from around a bend in the room caused Marik to jump and pull away from his brother to see the source of the noise, only to find his uncle stumbling over to the both of them, brushing dust and debris from his robes.

"It's no use, the vent is blocked up. It seems our dear Chief no longer needed an embalming room and decided to turn this place into a prison. It's doing quite an effective job, I must say."

Odion looked grim, but the mention of the Chief sparked something in Marik as he turned on his uncle saying "How does he know so much about this place? I only left six years ago – how has he gained so much power in just six years?"

Fenuku was stone-faced as Marik stared him down, but the young man was not finished with his tirade. "What happened to this family? I haven't seen anyone I recognize so far, apart from you, and for some reason you don't have any authority over anyone! How? How could you let some stranger waltz in and take over this place?!"

"Marik."

The young man was surprised to hear a reprimanding tone coming from his brother, and looked up to see Odion looking at him with brotherly chastisement.

"It is not fair to blame your uncle for this when we do not know the whole story."

Marik lowered his head, guilt building inside him. He knew his brother was not angry with him, but when it came to his family, disappointment was sometimes worse than wrath.

Fenuku raised his hand for silence, and both brothers turned to face him, though Marik couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye, his eyes peering from beneath his bangs instead.

"No Odion, it is true that some of this is indeed my fault. But Marik" Fenuku turned stern eyes on Marik, who shrank even further, "you ask what happened to this family? I'll tell you. Your father died. You left. And you took with you everything that gave us purpose in life. There were no other heirs to carry the Pharaoh's secret, and no one to bestow that ritual on anyone else. We didn't even have the Millenium Items to protect anymore. Marik, what were we to do when we had nothing to hope for but that this would all solve itself, or perhaps that we were wrong and the Pharaoh would never come back; we had to change. Because the alternative was that one day the Pharaoh would come to us, and we'd have nothing to give him, and nothing to say but that we failed."

Marik couldn't look at either of the men.

He already knew it was his fault.

He had gotten used to blaming himself for things.

And yet… he always wondered whether or not he wasn't entirely in the wrong.

After all, it had all worked out in the end.

He had found the Pharaoh and delivered to him what was his.

But in the meantime his family had suffered. He didn't know if things would have been better if he had never left; he didn't know if the Pharaoh would ever have found them anyways.

However he still couldn't bring himself to say that the ends justified the means.

With eyes burning, he leaned against the stone wall behind him, sliding down to sit on the ground with his head in his knees, trying desperately to hide the hot tears making their way down his face.

He deserved nothing less than this.

Suddenly he was enveloped in warmth, the familiar form of his brother wrapped reassuringly and lovingly around him.

Odion didn't blame him for this; he would never blame him for any of this.

He heard his uncle speaking, in a much softer tone than before, "Master Marik, I don't mean to blame you; only to point out that many things have led to this current situation, and as I have already pointed out, one of those factors is myself."

Marik raised his head slightly, rubbing his eyes on the back of his hands, taking away his tears as well as some of the Kohl liner.

"I'm sorry Uncle," he said, his voice choked with the emotions still running through his head, "But… what _exactly _happened while we were gone?"

Fenuku looked at him steadily for a moment, and then sighed wearily. Pulling a stool from a nearby work table, he sat across from Marik and Odion, leaning his face on his woven fingers, evidently gathering his thoughts as he prepared to speak.

"For the first couple years… we were alright. Master Najja managed to keep everyone's hopes up, saying that we had sources above ground that would find you three and retrieve the Items. That was the best we could do at the time, and I certainly had no other options.

However… he was sick. I still don't know just what was wrong with him. Our doctors tried all they could, but our medicines and practices are based in ancient methods, and this was something we had not faced before. He must have picked it up outside the tomb, because we knew how to treat every other ailment our kin had contracted.

At any rate, just before he died, he introduced the clan to his 'son'. I was suspicious from the start. I had known that Najja had gone to the surface many times, but I always thought he was smart enough not to get involved with the outsiders. I couldn't believe he had had a child with one. While he was certain the boy was his, I always harbored doubts.

For one thing, the boy looked nothing like him. And he was too greedy. He wanted to know more about what it was we guarded, and no answer we gave seemed to pacify him. When he became Chief after Najja's passing, he ordered me to tell him everything about our duties. And I'm sorry to say I did. I wanted to believe in him; he seemed to be just what we needed at the time. He understood the outside world, and I believed he could find the three of you and help us. So I told him. But I don't think he understood it. He never really believed the story of the ancient, nameless Pharaoh – and how could he? He was Arab, not Egyptian. He didn't know our history or our beliefs.

At any rate, I believe he thought my story to be a cover up; that the key to the Pharaoh's power on your back was just that – a key to a map, or instructions or something to the lost treasures of the Pharaoh. The Items he simply thought of as being a part of that horde of treasure. He was quite furious to find that we had lost not only the key but priceless artifacts as well.

So he turned all remaining members of our clan to searching through ancient records and scriptures to find any other clues on the whereabouts of such a treasure, since we could read and understand ancient Egyptian, and he could not. At first he told us that it was to find information on the Pharaoh so that we would continue to be useful to his memory, but after a while he dropped this act and simply had us searching for any mentions of treasure. Meanwhile he filled in roles such as guards and laborers with his own people.

Our family, Master Marik, is always deep in the libraries and record vaults now, reading every bit of print we have over and over again and roaming the walls to read the hieroglyphic inscriptions, teaching the rising generations ancient Egyptian and many other languages so that they may be part of the search as well.

For four years this has gone on, and despite our resentment of this man, no one has had the power to stop him. I am the only one who holds any sort of authority anymore among our family, and yet you saw how much influence I was able to have."

Marik was stunned. Shocked. Horrified. His family. His poor, poor family. In their hour of need there had been no one to guide them. They had turned like sheep to the first bit of order and power they could find, because there was no other choice for them. And now they were trapped.

They needed someone to lead them out into the light, and back into the position of pride and honor they had held before.

But this brought another question to Marik's mind.

"Uncle, I still don't understand; how did _he_ become chief before _you_ did?"

Fenuku lowered his eyes and sighed once more, a weight seeming to drop down on his shoulders.

"I was useless when Master Najja was sick. Always he had been raised to be a Chief, and I had been raised to support him and my other brother, your father. But I… was unprepared for the duties and responsibilities of a Chief. I honestly didn't know what to do after you left. I didn't know how to carry on with our duties. I was so impressed with how your uncle handled everything, but I still didn't understand how I could do what he did. When his son showed up, I admit I felt… relieved. Even if I didn't trust him, it was a burden off of my back, and I desperately needed that at that time."

Marik gazed at his uncle in understanding. He knew what it was like to carry a burden; he also knew how strong a desire to be rid of it could be.

He found he couldn't blame his uncle for that.

As Marik thought, he slowly became aware of a pressure building around his throat and chest. It was stuffy in the room, and getting stuffier by the minute. He pulled off his leather jacket, his black sleeveless shirt providing some relief, but he was still having difficulty breathing.

Suddenly it hit him.

"Uncle… did you say the vents were closed off?"

Fenuku stared, puzzled. "Yes, I did."

Marik gulped, his throat going dry as he said "How much time have we been in here do you think?"

It was Odion who provided him an answer.

"At most two hours, since I awoke. I believe that was right after we were left here."

Marik turned to face his brother, his eyes wide with fear as he said, "And how much longer do you think we have before the oxygen in this room runs out?"

* * *

><p>*Author's Note:<p>

Dun-dun-dunnnnn!

Hey everyone! It's only been like, a week, and already I have another chapter! Truth be told, I finished this one right after I uploaded chapter 3, I just took this past week to edit it.

SO. I now have a schedule for this fic, since it's not going to be that many more chapters before it's finished… I hope.

**This story will now be updated every Monday**, most likely Monday evening. So please, go ahead and follow this story if you find it interesting, because it *will* be finished!


	5. Chapter 5

A Tomb Keeper's Lot, Chapter 5

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><p>Ishizu was pushed roughly down the passage, the cries of her brothers echoing after her from the Chief's room.<p>

She heard a shout from Odion, and her uncle calling out to her brothers, but they did not respond.

Her eyes widened in fear and she struggled even more against the guards, but they grabbed her more tightly and continued to push her forward, cursing at her in Arabic.

As they turned a corner she saw a room with a wooden door at the far end of the hallway; she didn't know what this room was now, but the whole corridor had previously been housing for the extended Tomb Keeper clan members.

When they reached the door the men opened it and shoved her through. She stumbled into the torch lit chamber, but quickly regained her footing and turned back to the guards just as they were closing the heavy door behind her.

She rushed to intercept it, but the latch was already locked.

She stood by the door another moment, inspecting it and the lock for any weak points, when suddenly a soft, female voice behind her said "It's no use escaping. There's nowhere to go."

Ishizu froze, then slowly turned to see who her companion was.

Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

The dimly lit room was filled with women, all fairly young and pretty, draped in robes and seated on blankets and cushions throughout the room.

But there was something off about them.

Most were huddled against the wall, trying desperately to blend into the shadows in the room, and it seemed that many of them were dressed in head scarfs and modern clothing.

However, a few of the women gathered in the middle of the room were more… familiar. Their clothes were reminiscent of what she remembered women in the tomb wearing, and their faces were much more like those of her family.

They also appeared to have much more fire and vitality than the other women as they examined Ishizu.

One of these women rose from her spot on the ground and stood amongst the others, tall and proud as she stared down Ishizu.

"Who are you? Where are you from?"

Ishizu recognized her voice as the one who had spoken earlier.

She considered for a moment whether or not to reveal her identity, and decided to do a little investigating first.

"I will not tell you until I know where I am. So?"

The woman before her raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"You mean you don't know? His 'highness' usually _loves_ to tell the new girls exactly why they're here. Just who _are_ you?"

Ishizu didn't respond, but her apprehension showed through her stance as the woman continued to scrutinize her.

The woman smiled slightly, but the expression seemed empty.

"Fine. This", she said gesturing to the room, "is Jibade's harem; a special place for all of the pretty, young, useless women in these tombs to sit around twiddling their thumbs until his highness feels the need for company. No other men are allowed here."

Ishizu froze, terror gripping her body. "Then… am I to be a concubine?"

The woman before her shrugged nonchalantly, saying "It depends on who you are."

"I suppose I must tell you then." She struggled to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry and her tongue seemed caught in her throat. "I am Ishizu Ishtar, daughter of the Tomb Keepers."

The familiar women she had noticed before broke into whispers and gasps of astonishment, though none seemed as shocked as the woman conversing with Ishizu.

"It can't be…."

Ishizu cocked her head, looking more closely at the woman who had had such a strong reaction. There was something about the woman's eyes… they seemed familiar. And the shape of her face; it reminded her of someone she knew long ago. That someone was now murky in her memories, but the more she looked, the clearer the image became: her uncle. This woman before her was most definitely an image of her Uncle Najja.

And suddenly, she knew exactly who this person was.

"Sharifa… my cousin."

Sharifa blinked, coming out of her stupor, a smile slowly growing on her face. "It really is you. Ishizu."

She rushed forward to embrace Ishizu, and suddenly the other women from the center surrounded her as well.

And she remembered them.

There was Panya, who had been a little servant girl when Ishizu was young and was now a lovely young woman; and Ife, daughter of one of the priests of the clan, who was a few years older than Ishizu and had always been very sweet. Monifa, the only child of her uncle Fenuku, wept silently as she grasped one of Ishizu's arms.

Ishizu gazed at the women surrounding her, amazed to see these relatives when it had been so long since she had last seen them. Back then she had known almost everyone in the clan (it was difficult to avoid anyone when living underground) but it was mainly the other women with whom she had spent time.

Having lost her mother at such a young age, the other women of the tomb took her under their wing. She had cooked and cleaned with them, learned the lore of the clan and been trained in the ancient ways with them, and had played with the very women surrounding her now. She had even gone with a few to the surface to get certain supplies from the village.

She remembered those experiences quite clearly.

But as Marik grew older, she had spent less and less time with these other women as she strived to guide her little brother and give him the motherly love he had been robbed of, and because of that she grew up too fast and had no more time for games.

Yet as she looked around, she felt the same feelings of love she had experienced for these women as a little girl wash over her, and she was elated to find they were happy to see her as well.

She looked beyond her circle of relatives at the other women in the room, who watched the group in confusion and, in some cases, envy.

"Sharifa, who are these other women?" She said quietly, and Sharifa looked to see the women watching them closely. "They're not Tomb Keepers, are they?"

Sharifa shook her head and said "No, they are the wives of the Arabians who now live down here, as well as the mistresses of 'his highness'. He likes to think he's Pharaoh and entitled to take whatever he wants."

As she looked back at the women, another question came to her mind. "Where are the rest of the women? You're mothers, and aunts, and other servants?"

"Who knows. They're forced to read through the ancient records, always searching for information on the Pharaoh or his treasure. They wander the tombs looking for clues; we hardly see them anymore."

Her words struck Ishizu, bringing the urgency of her situation home and reminding her of her reason for being in the tombs in the first place; not to mention the currently unknown situation of her brothers.

"Cousin", she said in a somewhat urgent tone, placing a hand on Sharifa's shoulder, "I need to get out of here and find my brothers, and for that I need your help."

Once again Sharifa looked shocked. "Brothers? You mean… Master Marik is here as well?"

Ishizu nodded, a soft smile on her face. "Indeed. And I have good news! Th-"

She was cut off as Sharifa placed her finger to her lips, her eyes wide in fear. She moved away and gestured firmly for Ishizu to follow her.

They moved to another corner of the room, and when Sharifa spoke again she had switched to ancient Egyptian instead of Arabic.

"I'd rather not discuss matters of family so near the door; it's always guarded. What's more, the guards don't know our language, so it should be alright. Now", she stared deeply, searchingly into Ishizu's eyes as she continued, "What is your news?"

"The Pharaoh has returned."

The Tomb Keepers erupted in gasps, and Sharifa fell forward to grab Ishizu by the shoulders, almost shaking her in her fervor.

"He exists? Have you seen him? When? Where?! Does he have his memories? How did you find him? What do we do now?!" She paused to breathe for a moment and her face paled slightly. "… Does Jibade know?"

"You've mentioned this 'Jibade' several times. Are you referring to the Chief?"

Sharifa scoffed lightly, removing her hands from Ishizu to fold them in front of her. "I refuse to refer to him as that. I do not consider him to be the true Chief, nor my brother. He knows that. He's lucky I even agree to call him Jibade."

Ishizu blinked in confusion. "And why is that?"

"He is not my father's son any more than he is a true Egyptian. Jibade is the false name he uses to try and trick us into following his rule. His real name is Fathi."

"So…" Ishizu said softly, contemplating the information, "he isn't really a member of the clan after all."

Sharifa glanced back at Ishizu in thought. "You have seen him then?"

Ishizu nodded. "Yes, Uncle Fenuku took us to him when we first arrived. Marik doubted the Chief's claims from the beginning."

"Then Master Marik has good eyes." Sharifa said smiling, but after a moment her eyes fell and a sigh escaped her lips. "Master Fenuku always was too trusting of that invader."

"You're wrong Sharifa!"

Ishizu turned to see Monifa walking towards them, a frown set on her lips and fire in her eyes. "My father does not trust the Chief any more than we do. But he has his duties, and he performs them as best he can."

Sharifa frowned at Monifa in turn, and Ishizu guessed that this was likely not the first time the two had had this argument. "Your father lets him get away with too much. It was his place to take over after my father. He has not fulfilled his duties in the least."

"He still leads us! He keeps peace! Without him The Chief would have plundered this place ages ago and probably killed all of us! He is out numbered though! If he does any more than allowed, he _will_ be killed, and then what will happen?"

"Cousins, please", Ishizu placed herself between the two, arms outstretched to calm them both, "we don't have time to start blaming each other. I must find my brothers, and we all need to find a way to prepare for when the Pharaoh comes home."

Monifa bowed her head, and Sharifa turned away brusquely, though she was considerably calmer than she had been.

"It won't be that easy Ishizu," Sharifa said, her voice low and eyes grim, "as I said, there are guards outside this door at all times, and I highly doubt 'his highness' is going to let you get away with anything."

"Why? What can he do to stop me?"

Sharifa turned to face her, her face severe. "We're not just gathered here to socialize Ishizu. Jibade has been with plenty of women, both here and above ground. He's careful not to give any heirs to the Tomb Keeper women though, in fear that they'll have a claim to his position, but that doesn't mean he leaves us alone. As for you though… well, I have no doubt he plans to take you as his wife, you being the daughter of the former heir. A child by _you_ is a whole other matter; it would finally give him the claim to the secrets of the Pharaoh he has always sought."

Once again Ishizu's throat went dry, but she was not one to give up hope.

"My brothers would never allow him to do such a thing."

"Your brothers wouldn't have a say in the matter. And if you or they tried anything, you could put them at serious risk. He wouldn't kill Master Marik simply because he is the only one who knows the full secret of the Pharaoh, but he could still be hurt. And your other brother – Odion was it? – he would be even less safe. I'm sure Jibade would have no qualms in killing him."

Ishizu drew away, trying desperately to stop the images rushing to her mind: Marik being shackled and beaten, Odion knocked to the ground, bloody and bruised as The Chief laughed and she fought against bonds to help her brothers… and then images of dear Odion, lying in a pool of blood with vacant eyes, while Marik screamed for his brother and she looked on, helpless and broken.

She brought a hand to her face and felt tears flowing down her cheeks; when had she started crying?

She shook her head to clear it. No. Those things would not come to pass. They couldn't. She wouldn't let them.

With renewed determination she turned to Sharifa, saying "I _am_ leaving, and I will need all of your help. This Chief will not stop the work of the Tomb Keeper's and prevent the Pharaoh from fulfilling his destiny."

Sharifa stared at her, considering her words. Finally she nodded and said "Then we will help you. Like you said, it is our duty to prepare for the Pharaoh. But Ishizu, it will not be easy."

Ishizu actually smiled then, surprising the women around her as she said with a laugh "Try saving the world sometime."

* * *

><p>*Author's Note:<p>

First of all, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to ALL of my wonderful Reviewers, Followers, Favoriters, and Viewers! You guys are awesome, and I'm so happy to see that people like my story!

I'm sorry if I don't get around to responding to your reviews, but please know that I truly appreciate them! They make my day! 3

We'll be getting back to Marik and the boys next week, but I wanted to take a little interlude to see how Ishizu was faring.

Oh, by the way, I don't know if I'd mentioned this previously or not, but many of these characters (like the Chief, guards, others that will be seen soon) are inspired by the Grave Keeper Yugioh cards (i.e. Gravekeeper's Chief, Gravekeeper's Assailant, Gravekeeper's Spear-holder, etc. etc.), though they're more inspired by the looks and titles of these cards than anything else.

Also, I imagine Ishizu had actually been to the surface before since she knew what a tv and a motorcycle were, as well as where a village was; however, like in my story, I imagine it was supervised, since apparently she didn't know about the alarm.

Besides, her mother found Odion while she was outside, so… yeah, I'm stickin' with my head-canon.

And I really want to explore the Tomb Keeper women some more; according to all the research I've done, women in Ancient Egypt actually had a lot of power and rights, more so than pretty much any other culture of the time, and definitely more than women in modern Egypt. However, it seems that things changed over time for the Tomb Keepers, since they definitely adopted a more… female-subordinate ideology.

I have a few ideas on how this all happened though, so stay tuned!

Next chapter to be posted next Monday!


	6. Chapter 6

A Tomb-Keeper's Lot, Chapter 6

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><p>For what seemed like the hundredth time, Marik examined the stone door of the chamber, looking desperately for any cracks or gaps or other weaknesses in it that could possibly provide them with a much needed way out.<p>

Odion examined the door frame and walls, trying to determine their thickness to see if any weak points could be found.

Fenuku meanwhile sat against the wall, trying vainly to rest and not take any more oxygen than was necessary.

None of them knew how much time they had before their oxygen ran out; they had already blown out as many of the torches in the room as they could without leaving themselves in pitch blackness, but they had no idea whether The Chief intended to leave them there to die or if he intended to release them at some point. They were not willing to chance the latter.

As Marik checked a spot on the door that by now was very familiar and once again found nothing of consequence, he could feel the hope seeping out of him.

There was nothing. No weak points, no way out, and no chance of saving his sister.

With a viscious cry he rammed his fist against the door, bruising and scratching his knuckles, but neither caring nor noticing it in his anger.

Odion looked on in worry, but he understood well his brother's anger.

Their sister was out there, somewhere, at the mercy of an imposter; and there was nothing either could do to help her.

Marik leaned against the stone, breathing heavily as he tried to regain control of himself.

He couldn't stand this; being trapped in this musty tomb. The smell of the ointments was suffocating, and every move kicked up a new cloud of dust which stuck in their throats and made it impossible to draw a full breath.

But it was the dark that made it unbearable.

Since he was a child Marik had been afraid of the dark – he had nothing good to associate with it – and as the few lit torches in the room grew dimmer and dimmer, Marik felt as if the shadows were creeping up on him, reaching for him.

He felt terrified, helpless, and like a confused little child all over again.

"It wasn't supposed to go this way," he breathed out heavily, his eyes squeezed shut and his fists clenched, "this was supposed to be over; all the pain and misery of this place… We've fulfilled our duties! Why is our family still suffering?!"

He slammed his fists against the door again and turned away, falling back against the door in defeat.

With characteristic softness Odion placed a hand on his younger brother's head, smoothing his hair lightly in a calming gesture. "We will get out of here Marik. We will help our sister."

Marik huffed in frustration, but Odion had succeeded in soothing his temper somewhat. He looked over at his brother with questioning eyes and said softly "How can you be so optimistic Odion? Especially when there's no sign of hope?"

Odion smiled, a wistful look in his eyes as he said "I am used to holding out hope when there is none to be found. And frankly Marik, it has served me well. After all, _you're_ here, aren't you?"

Marik felt a stinging in his eyes and a lump in his throat. He didn't deserve such a devoted brother, but he most certainly could not survive without him.

"I'm sorry Odion."

"Don't be, brother." Odion ruffled his hair softly, and Marik couldn't help but smile. "We just need to teach you to have faith."

Marik gazed up appreciatively at the man, but suddenly he felt something strange: a twinge in his soul, as if it was reaching out to something or something was calling to it.

He had felt something like this before.

And it filled him with terror.

"Odion…."

His brother nodded quickly, his face drawn in concentration. "I feel it too Marik."

He locked frightened eyes with his older brother, hoping that what they were feeling did not mean more trouble. "A Millennium Item."

Fenuku raised his head quickly, turning it sharply to his nephew as he gasped "A Millenium Item? Here? But how? I thought you gave ours to the Pharaoh?"

"I did!" Marik said abruptly, "but this isn't one of ours! I know the feel of those. This one… it's vaguely familiar, but… I don't know where I've felt it before…."

His uncle stared in confusion, starting "But then how- "

FWOOM! CRACK!

All three men jumped and stared at the stone door, which was unmoved but from which the sound had definitely originated.

"It's on the other side of the door!" Marik shouted, backing away slightly as he stared unbelieving at the stone.

Odion nodded, at the ready to fight whatever force might be outside the room.

There were a few more small cracking sounds from the other side, and Marik thought he could see a thin fracture line growing from the bottom of the door to the top.

Suddenly a shock-wave of power coursed through the door and across the room as a thundering crack sounded in their ears and the door burst into pieces before them in an avalanche of dirt and rock.

Coughing and fanning away the cloud of dust filling the air, Marik cracked an eye open and saw a tall silhouette in the now open door frame.

The figure seemed to be draped in a robe, with cloth wrapped around its head, and as more dust cleared, the light of the few torches in the chamber gleamed off of a gold object hung around the figure's neck.

A golden Ankh.

The Millennium Key.

Marik gasped and backed away, grabbing for his brother's arm. Odion held onto his brother protectively, also recognizing the figure before them.

"It- it's you!" Marik sputtered, pointing a shaking finger at the man, "The stranger who appeared the day I went aboveground!"

Images surfaced in Marik's mind of the mysterious man he and his sister had encountered in the city that day; the man who had shown up again inside the tomb after Marik's evil alternate-self had killed his father, only to say that it was the will of the nameless Pharaoh that his family should suffer.

For much of his life Marik had thought this stranger was the one who had committed the murder, but knowing the truth now didn't change the fear he felt over this strange apparition.

"Who are you? H-how are you here?!"

The man stared coolly at Marik and Odion, unfazed by their reactions or the rubble around him.

"I am Shadi." He said, his steady voice echoing in the chamber, "I am an ancient spirit tasked with protecting the Millenium Items and preparing the way for the Pharaoh's return. I am here to help."

Marik continued to stare at the man, processing what he had learned.

He was still shook up by the flood of memories Shadi's appearance had brought, but no longer was Marik afraid of him.

Fenuku stood then, brushing the dirt from his robes and stepping over chunks of rock towards the others. He bowed respectfully to Shadi and said "We thank you for your help. We are indebted to you, Spirit."

Shadi nodded respectfully back, but turned to look directly at Marik, saying "You may repay me by fulfilling your duties and preparing for the Pharaoh's arrival."

Marik looked back with helplessness in his eyes. "But how? That man pretending to be Chief is in control of everything down here! How are we supposed to fight him when there's no one to stand against him?"

With unwavering calm Shadi explained "_You_ will stand against him Marik. As the one who delivered the Pharaoh's message, it is your destiny to lead this clan to the completion of its mission."

Disbelief clouded Marik's eyes, and feelings of inadequacy overwhelmed him. "But I have no right to stand against him. I'm as much a disgrace as he is. No one will follow me."

Shadi smiled at that, surprising the three with the unexpected show of emotion.

"You have truly come a long way, Marik Ishtar. I believe you can do this. Go – find your family. They will help you rise to your destiny."

Suddenly he was gone. Marik blinked, almost unsure if he had ever really been there at all.

He turned back to look at his brother, who smiled reassuringly at him, and then at his Uncle, who looked at him expectantly, ready to follow his lead.

He could feel their trust, their confidence in him, and he wondered how someone who had once abandoned his family and traditions could now be entrusted with leading them out of the darkness.

Marik gazed appreciatively at the men, holding his head high, and with a deep breath to ready himself he squared his shoulders and said "Alright then, let's go find the rest of our family."

* * *

><p>*Author's Note:<p>

Sorry, bit of a shorter chapter today. That's just how this section turned out.

But don't worry, next week we get some real action! I'll be working on it tonight and I'm really excited about it! There's some interesting stuff in store.

Once again, thanks so much for all the reviews and whatnot – you guys really make my day! I'm always happy to hear that people enjoy my writing.

So please, feel free to review or fave or follow or whatever! And thanks for reading! ;)


	7. Chapter 7

A Tomb-Keeper's Lot, Chapter 7

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><p>Fenuku led the Ishtar brothers along the dark passageway, which climbed steadily away from the dungeon-like embalming room the three had just escaped from.<p>

There were few torches lining the walls in these lower passages, and the three had not yet come upon any guards.

Marik hoped their luck would hold.

It seemed it wouldn't however as they turned a bend in the dark to see the silhouette of a large, burly man at the far end of the passage.

Fenuku stopped and lifted his arm to halt the other two, leaning back against the stone brick wall and into the shadows of the corridor, out of reach of the distant torch light.

The man had not noticed their presence.

In the darkness, Fenuku motioned towards the door, and though it was hard to tell, Marik guessed that where the guard was standing was the entrance to the vaults. It was the lowest area of the tomb aside from the embalming chamber, and was usually heavily guarded. Inside were contained records of ancient Egypt, of the Pharaoh and his court, and hidden underneath it's floorboards in a secret chamber was the sarcophagus and mummy of the nameless Pharaoh.

Marik was shocked to see the room with so little protection.

Fenuku made no other motions as they waited, watching the guard anxiously as he stood before the door lazily looking around the lit hallway.

Marik looked over at his uncle for any sign of action, but Fenuku was staring hard at the man before them, and he looked unsure of what to do next.

Truth be told, Marik had no clue what to do either.

The minute they left their shroud of darkness, the man would most certainly see them, and they were too far away to stop him running off or calling out for help. They could try charging him and catching him at unawares, but that would create commotion and most likely bring other guards and unwanted attention. Besides, Marik still didn't believe that this man was the only person on look-out down in these tunnels.

Confusion and fear were creeping into his mind again, chipping away at the resolve he had only just gained. They had made it this far, but how was he to help his family when he couldn't even handle one guard?

Marik had no other option. He braced against the wall, getting ready to run and attack the man when his back was turned – if he could keep quiet enough it might work, he would just have to chance alerting any other guards.

Before he could spring however, he felt a familiar twinge inside his soul, but now the feeling brought hope instead of fear; suddenly the guard clutched his head, falling to the floor with a soft thump as he stopped moving, and behind him a gold light gleamed as Shadi once again appeared, transparent and hovering above the now still guard.

"Hurry," he called softly, motioning towards the men in the shadows, "time is slipping away; you must gather with the others before your absence is discovered. That man will soon go to reclaim you in order to force the Pharaoh's secret from you, and instead will find this man and the other guards disabled. I advise you to get to the higher levels before he can gather more men and trap you in this place. You must be prepared to face him."

Marik opened his mouth to ask for more information, but before he could make a sound Shadi had vanished, and Marik no longer felt the Millenium Key's presence.

"Well that's nice." Marik said exasperatedly, "he shows up to solve one problem and leaves us with a dozen more."

"Marik, he cannot complete our destiny for us", Fenuku chided.

The young man sighed, running a hand through his hair as he said "I know, I just wish he was a bit clearer with his instructions."

Odion smiled beside him, saying "He knows we're capable of figuring it out on our own."

Marik scoffed lightly, but walked forward towards the door to the vault, saying softly "Well we'll find out about that, won't we."

...…...

"There may be a way to help your brothers."

Inside the dim women's quarters, Ishizu sat on the dust-covered stone floor across from her cousin Sharifa, who was currently drawing vague outlines in the layer of dust on the ground.

"Here's a map of the main floor, where we are. This," she pointed to a second drawing, "is a map of the lower floor where the records vault is. That is where our family is."

Ishizu's face creased in confusion. "How are you sure they are in the vaults?"

"Jibade forces them to be there all hours of the day. Sometimes he lets them leave to sleep in their own beds, sometimes not. He has them looking for clues to the Pharaohs treasure."

"Treasure? But the bulk of the Pharaoh's worldly treasures have long since been removed."

"We tried to tell Jibade that. He didn't believe us."

Ishizu turned to stare at the map, studying the different passageways represented.

"So to reach our family we would have to take the main hallway; but that will most certainly be heavily guarded, and doesn't it go past the Chief's room? We would never make it this way."

Sharifa smiled suddenly, a knowing look in her eyes as she said "And that's where we have a chance."

She drew another line then, connecting the back of their room to the opposite side of the vault with a long J-shaped curve.

"We could never make it that way; so we must go another way. There is a secret tunnel that connects this room with the vaults. We found it a few years ago. It seems to be a secondary tunnel for escape from the lower levels, but it is very small and in bad shape."

Ishizu's eyes shown with hope as she turned to Sharifa, saying "This is just what we need! Why did you not mention this sooner?"

Sharifa's own smile faltered slightly as she said "I had to be certain you were willing to take the risk. This is a very dangerous passage; the rocks are unstable, and some parts are very narrow and difficult to get through. We nearly lost one of the younger girls in there the first time we used the passage, and because of this we do not use it often. But it is the only way for us to meet with the others and find a way to save Master Marik."

Ishizu listened carefully to Sharifa's warnings, but she didn't even need to think about her decision.

"Of course. I will do whatever I can to help my brothers."

The other woman smiled softly in admiration of Ishizu's courage.

"We should go now then."

Ishizu nodded resolutely, then said "Who all will go with us? There is safety in numbers, but from what you described I can't imagine us all fitting in that tunnel."

Sharifa shook her head, saying, "Only you and I will go. We're the only ones needed to tell the clan what has happened."

"Wait just one moment!" Monifa stormed over to the two women, fire burning in her eyes and her shoulders squared. "I will be going with you as well."

Sharifa rolled her eyes and turned to look condescendingly at her younger cousin.

"This isn't a pleasure trip Monifa. We are going to gather our family and try to rescue Master Marik."

"Am I not family? Do you not think I want to see Master Marik safe as well? I want to help!"

"You would only get in our way," Sharifa said, her tone stern, "you are too young and inexperienced."

Monifa was fuming.

"Young? Inexperienced? I have been through just as much hardship and heartache as you. Don't think that just because your father was elder means you are superior to me; my father is a great man, no matter what you say. He deserves your respect, and so do I."

Sharifa looked ready to retort, but Ishizu stepped in. "Please, cousins, now is not the time. We must meet with the other Tomb Keepers as quickly as possible. And… I would be glad of some extra help."

The two other women continued to stare each other down, but finally Sharifa sighed and turned away, saying "Alright Monifa, if you insist on being a fool and putting your life in danger… you can come with us."

"I don't need your permission."

Sharifa made no response, and instead turned to the other Tomb Keeper women, Panya and Ife.

"You two will need to carry on as if nothing has changed; don't let anyone become aware of our absence. And if something goes wrong, protect the other women."

The girls nodded, their faces resolute and fearless.

Turning to Ishizu, Sharifa said simply "Follow me" before heading to a dark corner of the room where a curtain-like tapestry hung. She moved it aside and slowly pushed against the stone wall behind it. Without a sound the wall swung inward, and she quickly motioned for Ishizu and Monifa to get inside.

Grabbing a torch from the wall beside the tapestry, she stepped inside the passage herself and closed the wall behind them.

The torch seemed bright in the small passage, and Ishizu was able to get a fairly good look at what was to be the key to her salvation in the underground caverns.

It was not promising.

The passage was barely wide enough for two of the women to stand shoulder to shoulder, and the ceiling was only a foot above their heads. Webs hung in every corner and draped across the passage in many places like a veil. They were thick and enmeshed with dirt and dust, preventing Ishizu from seeing very far into the tunnel.

Sharifa squeezed her way past Ishizu and Monifa, who fell into step behind her as she led the way further inside.

"Careful not to touch the walls – the slightest shift can disrupt the stone-work and bring the walls down on us. And watch your feet, for there are many fallen bricks and debris that could cause a nasty fall."

A small clacking sound accompanied by a yelp sounded behind Ishizu, and she turned to see Monifa hunched over and rubbing her foot which had just connected with a loose paving stone.

Sharifa turned a withering look on the girl, and Monifa responded with downcast eyes and a small humph of annoyance.

"I know, watch my feet."

Without a word Sharifa turned back and continued walking, but Ishizu watched the younger girl gaze after their leader with a surly look before picking herself back up and following.

They continued straight along the tunnel for what seemed like hours, and Ishizu was beginning to worry that perhaps they were going the wrong way, when suddenly the path turned sharply and started descending.

Sharifa paused at the curve and raised the torch farther in front of herself, trying to get a better view down the hallway.

Seeming satisfied, she turned back to the other two, saying "This part gets much trickier. As we go down further the tunnel becomes even less stable and also much smaller. However it looks that it is still intact since my last venture here, so we should be alright."

They followed her down the bend, and Ishizu started to notice a change in the passage; the ceilings were getting lower, requiring them to stoop as they walked, and the walls were also narrower than before, only allowing them to walk single file. There were also several sections where stairs had been carved into the rock, since the downgrade in these parts was too steep to walk otherwise.

It was getting more and more difficult to keep from touching the walls, and even Sharifa was forced to brace herself against it at one point as they climbed over a pile of rubble in their path.

They continued on in this manner for a while, and it seemed to Ishizu that they had gotten past the worst of it already.

Indeed, as they came to a seventh set of stairs, Sharifa let out a sigh of relief and turned to say "We are almost to the floor where the vaults are. Soon we should get to level ground."

They didn't have long to enjoy the news though, as they heard Monifa cry out in the dark behind them, accompanied by a heavy thud.

"Monifa!" Sharifa cried, dashing toward the sound along with Ishizu.

Monifa was on the ground, groaning in pain, a large rock near her on the ground.

"Cousin! What happened?" Ishizu said, checking the girl for signs of injury.

She moaned slightly, cracking her eyes open to look at the other women.

"I… I tripped and fell against the wall… I must have… jolted one of the rocks from the ceiling… it just grazed my head I think, but… ah! Ow…."

She clutched at her head in pain as she tried to get up, but she was stopped by Sharifa, whose worried face showed uncharacteristic compassion for her young cousin.

"Wait. Rest a bit before trying to stand."

"No…" she whispered, again bracing herself against the floor, "we must keep going… to get to our family."

"We can wait a few moments for you to regain your bearings." Sharifa said sternly, though there was no anger in her voice.

Monifa looked to her, surprised and grateful, and Ishizu watched them both with a smile as they sat in the flickering light, a new understanding seeming to pass between the bickering girls.

Suddenly a cracking sound met their ears, and they looked to see a freshly fallen stone beside them on the floor.

For a moment they could just stare at it, eyes wide, fearing what it meant.

They soon became aware of a dull thudding sound which seemed to seep through the stone above, and a few small rocks came loose to bounce off their shoulders.

Another sound, that of creaking rock, started to emanate from the tunnel, and the three women were shaken from their stupor as they quickly rose off the ground to stoop in the passage.

Monifa cried out and fell as she stood too quickly, but she was caught by Sharifa, who held her protectively as the walls shook.

"We have to get out of here. Now! The pressure in this part of the tunnel is too much for these loose stones; it will cave in any second!"

Sharifa and Ishizu carefully escorted Monifa along the passageway, traveling as quickly as they could down the narrow pass. Rocks were falling quickly now, large blocks falling from the ceiling and narrowly missing them. Dirt was pouring in as well from the parts where the rock had fallen away, kicking up clouds of brown that made the going even harder.

They struggled to carry Monifa down the staircase, travelling single file with the injured girl supported on their arms; but they could not seem to move fast enough.

Stones continued to fall and the clouds of dust were now almost impossible to see through. Sharifa cried out in frustration as her torch died in the chocking cloud, and she quickly dropped it to feel for the wall, hoping it could guide her instead.

They could no longer see their way, but they could hear the rocks starting to fall in the corridor ahead of them.

"No!" Sharifa gasped, her fear and desperation seeping into Ishizu, terrifying her. If the passage ahead of them caved in as well, they would truly be trapped.

That was of course if they didn't get crushed by an avalanche of rock first.

Ishizu's soul cried out in anguish to her brothers, her eyes clenched shut to block out the disaster enfolding around her.

Was this to be it? Would she never get to see her brothers again?

She had been through so much in her life, struggling so hard to keep her family together, but now it would all be for nothing.

She had failed.

As if in answer to her sorrow, she felt something stir in her soul, and a golden light flashed from behind her closed eyelids.

Not daring to hope, she opened them, and was met with a glowing light surrounding herself, her cousins, and filling the passage ahead of them, preventing the rocks from falling and acting as a shield against the dust and debris.

As she marveled she heard a voice, soft and familiar saying "You must go now. There is little time, and you are so close. Do not worry; I will protect you from this, but you must continue your journey. You will find what you seek."

"Shadi…" she whispered, gratitude filling her heart.

He had helped her not so long ago in her battles to save her little brother's soul, and now he was back once again to help her save the rest of her family.

She wondered how she could ever repay him.

Seeing the opportunity, Sharifa quickly pulled Monifa and Ishizu forward again and into the light, but Ishizu looked back one more time to see the outline of a man in robes and a turban, and whispered a heartfelt "Thank you" as they fled down the stairs and turned a corner, the golden vision fading from view.

* * *

><p>*Author's Note:<p>

Okay, so I know this is late. By like, a few minutes. Sorry.

What can I say, it was a holiday today! (Well, technically it was Sunday, but I had the day off from class. So for me the holiday was Monday.)

Anyways, I'm sorry to say that the Ishtar siblings won't be meeting up with each other this week. They had a few more individual challenges to face before they could be reunited. Poor babies.

Anyways, thanks so much for the continued support everyone! It really means so much to me! This story has really been a joy to write, and I'm so glad to see that others enjoy it as well! The Ishtar's really are just so much fun to write; they're each wonderful characters, and I love their relationship – it reminds me a lot of my own family.

But anyhoot, I'll have next week's chapter up in time! Promise! (I really shouldn't say that, I have no idea what's in the future. :P) So please, keep an eye out, and please keep reading! There's not too much left to go, perhaps another few chapters, but it should be wrapping up soon. And then I can work on finishing some of my other multi-chapter fics…. 0.0; Eheheheheh…..


	8. Chapter 8

A Tomb-Keeper's Lot, Chapter 8

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><p>"Brothers, Sisters… we have guests in our home."<p>

Marik stepped out from behind his uncle, who had entered the chamber first to soften the shock, and gazed upon the group of men, women and children gathered in the large, torch-lit vault.

The Tomb-Keepers stared at him in confusion and trepidation, and he cowered under their piercing gazes.

He hadn't known what to expect upon seeing the rest of his family.

He found now that he could hardly bare to look at them, with no idea what he was supposed to say or how he was supposed to face them after so long.

Odion placed a heavy hand on his little brother's shoulder, and Marik found himself gaining a little courage from the gesture.

It would be alright; he _did_ have family that loved him.

His head lifted slightly and he managed to look into the eyes of his extended family, but he still didn't know what to say.

He tried to clear his throat, but his mouth was parched and the sound of him swallowing echoed in his ears and he cringed at its loudness in the hushed room.

"He-hello everyone… I know it's been a long time, but… I-I'm Marik Ishtar, the heir of the Tomb-Keepers."

For a moment it was silent, and Marik could see the shock on everyone's faces build and morph, and all too suddenly those expressions turned to anger and resentment, and they were advancing, fierce words and accusations and grilling questions dripping from their tongues like poison.

Marik couldn't react; he was immobilized with fear, shock, and rising in the back of his mind: pain.

He should have prepared for this.

His experience with his uncle had given him some hope that he would be forgiven by the clan, even welcomed, but it seemed that this had been too much to hope for.

They crowded him still, jabbing their fingers in his face and throwing their insults into the air.

He tried to stand his ground, to stay calm in the face of their anger – after all, he felt he deserved it – but his feelings of self-preservation were beginning to take over and he felt himself backing away, right into the solid form of his brother, who glared out across the mob but could really do nothing more.

Marik could hardly understand their words at this point; the cacophony had reached its peak, and he feared it would soon come to blows.

Before the group could become violent however, a throaty yell of "SILENCE!" rang out through the chamber, and everyone turned to Fenuku, whose ferocious expression caused the entire room to become still.

"How dare you…" He seethed, glaring out across the room, "all of you! Our family's heir returns to us in our hour of need, and you attack him with hatred and wrath. Such behavior is shameful!"

Some of the Tomb-Keepers looked sullen, but the majority was unmoved, though now most of their glares were directed at Fenuku.

A tall and strong looking man stepped forward, a hood draped on his head and a deep frown set on his face, and Marik recognized him as Zuberi, one of the priests of the clan.

"Don't you speak to us of shame, Fenuku. You are partly responsible for this mess that we are in. But you," he turned deadly eyes to Marik, "you are to blame for our family's pain. This 'hour of need' as your uncle puts it is all thanks to your betrayal. We would not be in this mess if you had not abandoned your family in the first place."

Marik hung his head. He had known this was coming, but it still stung.

His balled his fists, eyes clenching shut as he fought back the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes; he would not cry in front of these people.

He did not need to show any more weakness in front of them.

As far as they were concerned, he was worthless anyways.

"I know. And, for what it's worth… I-I'm sorry."

"Sorry? SORRY?" came another voice from the back of the room, this one much younger. The group parted and a young man pushed his way through. His black hair fell across his deep, hate-filled eyes as he stood before Marik, staring up at him as if sizing up to attack. "I'm afraid that's not worth much. You have no idea what we've been through, all because you couldn't handle your duties. You never cared about the rest of us. We were nothing to you! As long as you got your freedom, we could suffer and die down here for all you cared. And now…" he seethed, his teeth grit and eyes wide, "now you come crawling back to us, begging forgiveness? Men in this place have died for less than that!"

He lunged, and before anyone could stop him he had grabbed Marik's arms, twisting them behind his back, and had a small, sharp dagger poised directly at Marik's throat.

Odion cried out, reaching for his brother, but the young man shouted "NO!" and laid the edge of the knife against Marik's unprotected throat, forcing his head back as Marik tried to get away from the blade.

"No one will help him! He deserves this – for all the pain his actions have caused us, he deserves nothing less than to die and have his soul devoured by the beasts of the underworld."

One of the elder women stepped forward, reaching a hand towards the young man saying "You musn't do this Paki; he carries the Pharaoh's secret! Your soul will be in jeopardy if you harm him."

"I don't care!" he spat, twisting Marik's arms sharply and pressing the blade against his skin, "I'd willingly surrender my soul to avenge our family against this miscreant!"

The force of the young man's hold was beginning to cut off the circulation of Marik's wrists, but he was distracted by the sudden rush of memories brought to his mind from hearing the boy's name.

'Paki? Uncle Najja's youngest boy?' Marik's mind was racing, but the knife at his throat restricted his speech. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, pressing dangerously against the cool metal of the blade; but he managed to choke out the words "I remember you… cousin."

"Heh, do you now? I feel so honored." He leaned in, hissing in Marik's ear "I never liked you; so high and mighty, just because you were heir to the clan… you were spoiled. There were plenty of us who would gladly have devoted their lives to guarding this tomb, and yet the task was given to you: an undeserving and unappreciative little rat!"

"You know nothing of devotion."

Marik craned his neck to see Odion glaring at Paki, his hands twitching as he struggled not to attack – one false move and that dagger could easily slide across Marik's throat and kill him. Odion could not risk that.

But it seemed he could not control his tongue any longer.

"Marik has done more for this clan than you know; but more than that, he was destined to be the Ishtar heir. No one could have taken his place." He paused for a moment, his eyes unfocused and mind reflecting on the past, to a time when he, too, had wished to be heir. "You have no idea what he has suffered because of his fate, and what he has had to overcome." Odion regained his focus and turned a stony expression on the man threatening his brother, saying "You would not last a day in his place."

Paki's face contorted in rage as he spat "Silence! I refuse to be lectured by some lowly servant! You do not share our blood, so keep your mouth shut."

Odion seemed unfazed, head still high in defiance, but Marik could see the hurt hiding behind his eyes.

And it made his blood boil.

"No one…" he seethed, his voice low and menacing, "calls my brother a servant."

Paki laughed, sliding the dull side of the knife against Marik's throat tauntingly and said "Brother, huh? I knew you didn't care about all of _us_ anymore, but apparently you forgot the importance of blood ties while you were frolicking about the surface. I wonder what you poor father would say if he heard you referring to this outsider like that?"

"He's more deserving of our blood than you are!" Marik fumed, but his voice was weaker as he struggled not to move too much against the blade his cousin continued to shove at him.

He realized for a fleeting moment that if he continued his obstinacy, no amount of begging or pleading would save his neck; at that moment however, he didn't really care.

No one insulted Odion.

Paki sneered, ready to retort, but a sudden pounding of rock from the other side of the room drew everyone's attention.

Feeling the grip around his wrists slacken, Marik seized the opportunity to wrench his arms free, bringing one up to grasp Paki's wrist holding the dagger while his other formed a fist which collided against the side of Paki's face.

The young man stumbled, dropping the knife, and Marik stooped quickly to pick it up while Odion moved forward to place his brother behind him.

Anymore attempts to attack Marik would have to go through him.

Paki barely moved to retaliate, still distracted by the sounds of sliding, scraping rock emanating from the back of the room.

At the source of the noise was a wall, covered in hieroglyphs and pictures of Egyptian gods and monsters. A great tablet depicted on the wall drew Marik's attention, as it seemed to be shaking and moving steadily inward.

Slowly it swung back on unseen hinges which creaked noisily and echoed in the chamber, revealing a dark void behind it.

Marik stared at the opening, his overactive mind creating nightmarish visions of shadowy figures with glowing eyes emerging from its depths, but suddenly his imaginings were replaced by the slim form of a woman emerging from the doorway, shaking dust off her robes as she helped another, shorter woman stumble out of the opening, holding her head and coughing; and following the two was another, very familiar young woman with long black hair and bright eyes, her tan dress and shawl patched with dust.

Both brothers gasped loudly as they spotted her from afar.

"ISHIZU!"

Marik forced his way through the crowd of Tomb-Keepers, Odion on his heels as they rushed towards their sister.

Her eyes grew wide at the sound of his voice, and she quickly spotted him, his blonde hair standing out against the room, along with Odion's tall and imposing form.

"Marik! Odion!"

She had hardly been able to take two steps before Marik was upon her, hugging her so tight he lifted her off the ground.

She laughed for joy as he set her down, and was soon enveloped in Odion's massive arms as he hugged her, gently, love and relief seeping from his form, and she burrowed into his protective embrace.

Marik glommed onto them, and both older siblings spread their arms wide to include their dear little brother in the embrace.

For the first time in those caves Ishizu felt peace, held lovingly by both of her brothers, and tears streamed from her eyes as she thanked her ancestors for keeping them safe and allowing her to find them again.

Odion gazed at both of his younger siblings, his ever-present feelings of responsibility and duty momentarily outweighed by the joy he felt in having them near.

And for a moment Marik was able to forget where he was, forget the fear and anguish he had only just experienced, even forget his own self-loathing and guilt, as he was filled with feelings of love for his siblings, feeding off their love for him in return.

"Monifa!"

The three siblings were startled to hear the worried tones of Fenuku as he fought his way towards them all, moving with surprising speed until he reached the young girl holding her head.

She fell into his arms, and he cradled her close, worry etched on his face as he looked her over.

"Daughter, what happened to you? What is wrong?"

"There was a cave-in in the tunnel." Sharifa said, in her usual stern tone, but she placed a comforting hand on Monifa's shoulder. "She was hit by a falling rock, but she seems to be doing better now."

Fenuku leaned back to look in concern at Monifa, and she offered a weary smile to him. "I'll be alright father… I just need some rest."

He nodded slightly, but he didn't look anymore reassured. "You're lucky you were able to make it out alive."

"It wasn't luck," Sharifa said thoughtfully, "We managed to escape because… we were protected… somehow."

"We were saved," Ishizu said, turning to her brothers, "by a spirit… the protector of the Millenium Items."

Marik gasped "You mean Shadi?"

Ishizu lifted a brow in confusion. "Yes… how did you.…"

"He helped us too. That Chief had us trapped in the embalming room, but Shadi freed us, and he also took care of the guards outside this room so we could get in."

Ishizu smiled; she knew little about the mysterious spirit, but it seemed her whole family now owed him their thanks.

But not all of the family was feeling so grateful.

"So… the other disgrace is here as well now."

Marik and Odion glared at Paki as he stepped forward, barely glancing at Ishizu as he passed, but he didn't say anymore to them; his focus was on Sharifa.

"Why are you helping her?"

Sharifa crossed her arms defiantly, saying "Why shouldn't I be helping her? She is family."

Paki gave an angry humph and turned towards Ishizu, staring past her; ignoring her.

"I don't consider any of them to be family anymore."

"You're a fool Paki. An immature, angry little child."

Paki's eyes were livid as he turned back to her, his teeth grinding as he started "How dare you-"

"Oh I dare. I am your older sister, and you must listen to me with respect."

He held his tongue, but the anger didn't leave his eyes.

Satisfied for the moment, she turned towards Marik and his siblings, and a smile spread across her face as she bowed her head respectfully to him.

"It's good to see you again Master Marik. I'd welcome you home, but I think you've had enough of a welcome already."

"Sharifa…" he said softly, surprising even himself with the sudden shyness in his voice.

He remembered her very well, and those memories were making it difficult for him to even talk to her.

She had been more or less betrothed to him when he was little – marriages were planned early and carefully for such a small population – and though his views on such things had changed over the years he'd been away, he couldn't help but notice that she was in fact very pretty. He had always thought she was pretty.

He mentally smacked himself for the heat he felt rising in his face. He knew he could never bring himself to marry a family member, but old attractions were hard to let go of.

"Uh, thanks." He said, regaining his composure, "It's good to see you as well. Though… I kind of wish the rest of the family shared your sentiments."

At that she looked around the rest of the room, taking in the weary looks of the group as they watched the interactions, and her smile fell.

"What is wrong with all of you? Why are you all so angry? These three have come to help us: to save us from our fate! Have you not heard the news they've come all this way to share with us?"

"No." Paki said spitefully, "They have shared nothing of interest. And whatever news they have, I don't care to hear it."

"Oh?" Sharifa gasped in mock surprise, "You mean you don't care to hear that they have successfully fulfilled our Tomb-Keeper's Mission?"

Paki froze, his eyes wide, and aside from the gasps of the clan the tomb was silent, everyone waiting with baited breath to hear more.

Sharifa cast a sideways glance at Marik, prompting him to speak.

He nodded slowly, and looked out over the crowd.

"It's true. I… _we_… have found the nameless Pharaoh."

* * *

><p>*Author's Note:<p>

I'm sorry! This is WAAAAAAAAAY overdue.

Uh, I mean… it's a gift for Thanksgiving Day. Yeah.

So Happy Thanksgiving!

I should really stop promising that I'll get my chapters up in time – it seems that the minute I do, I end up being late.

This chapter was difficult to get right… it took a lot of revisions and thought before I was finally happy with it. And then it got long….. so I kinda cut it off.

The next chapter will go a lot smoother because it's a continuation of this one, and I have a bit clearer of a plan for it than I did with this. So… yay.

And no, Marik is not going to get with his cousin. Or anyone. This isn't a shipping fic. I just like exploring the more… strange and taboo traditions of a group of people having to live for thousands of years underground. I think it's necessary to understanding Marik, even if it does get… uncomfortable.

No one ever said his family was normal. They're far from it.

Anyways, once again, thanks for the reviews and faves everyone! Please feel free to leave more reviews and tell me what you think! I really would love to know!


	9. Chapter 9

A Tomb-Keeper's Lot, Chapter 9

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><p>"Why should we believe you?"<p>

Marik looked incredulously at his cousin, his voice dripping with contained anger as he answered "Excuse me?"

Paki continued to glare at him, and after a pause said "Why should we believe that you've actually found the Pharaoh? What proof do you have? I wouldn't be surprised if this was just some ploy to save you and your companions. You're pathetic."

Marik stared at the young man indignantly; he'd had just about all he could take of his ignorant cousin.

His fist clenched and he took a step forward, but his siblings still had their hands on him and gently held him back. Marik obediently stayed where he was, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

He couldn't let himself give in to Paki's taunting.

He was just wasting his time.

Marik opened his eyes to stare directly into his cousin's, and his voice was strong as he responded "Why am I even discussing this with you? You're not in charge here!"

"I should be." Paki seethed.

"But you are not." Fenuku said suddenly, letting go of his daughter as Sharifa stepped forward, putting a gentle arm around the girl. "I am. And I will speak for the Tomb-Keepers. Master Marik speaks the truth. All of you: search your hearts and you will know for yourselves."

The Tomb-Keeper's looked at their leader in surprise, and a few turned to each other, exchanging looks as they thought on his words.

Paki watched them incredulously, not liking the way they were starting to soften towards Marik and the others.

"I can't believe you're all listening to this nonsense! Have you already forgotten what he did? How he abandoned all of us? How can you possibly trust him?"

"Paki, just shut up!" Marik shouted, startling everyone around him and even surprising his own siblings, "You don't get it, do you? This isn't about me! And it's certainly not about you! It's about helping the Pharaoh: fulfilling the duties given to our family thousands of years ago."

"Heh, not about you? That's a lie. This entire situation is your fault, as I've already said." Paki sneered, his youthful face twisting into a malicious grin.

Marik cringed involuntarily, remembering how that same expression had once been mirrored on his own face.

"And before any of you try to come to his defense, let me tell you something that might change your mind." Paki said loudly, addressing the whole of the room, "When Master Marik ran away 6 years ago, it wasn't just for freedom; it wasn't because his father had, as we always thought, mysteriously died. No, I discovered what really happened…."

Marik froze. Did his cousin really know what had happened that day? His heart began to race, his palms sweating and body going clammy, and although he desperately wanted to stop Paki from continuing… he knew he couldn't. His family deserved to know the truth, no matter how painful it was.

With a twisted grin of victory, Paki swung his arm to point accusingly at Marik, and shouted the words Marik had been dreading, "You murdered your own father!"

There was a split-second of silence before the room erupted in gasps and sobs and cries of outrage.

Odion quickly placed himself in front of Marik, not wanting another attack like Paki's from the tumultuous crowd.

Marik stared at the ground, his face hard, masking the pain he felt as he listened once again to his family's anger.

The fragile disbelief in Fenuku's voice was almost more than he could take.

"Paki… how could you say such a thing? Marik, don't allow him to say such horrible things about you! … Marik? Nephew, why… why won't you say anything? Why won't you defend yourself?"

Marik couldn't even look at the man.

His hands fisted in Odion's jacket in front of him, and he pressed his forehead against the man's back as he had done when he was a child hiding from his father. Squeezing his eyes shut, Marik allowed himself a moment of weakness, indulging for a brief moment in the desire to simply hide from his troubles, his family, and his duties.

He felt a soft pressure on his shoulder, and lifted his head slowly to see Ishizu next to him, her smile full of love and empathy and eyes that said 'It's alright. We're here for you.'

Marik couldn't manage to smile back, but he brought a hand up to cover hers, and reached up to squeeze his brother's shoulder in gratitude.

Before his brain could catch up with his body, he stepped out from behind Odion and faced the group.

Sensing what his brother intended to do, Odion shouted over the din "Silence! Let Marik speak!"

The silence that followed was more due to shock than an actual desire to listen to the former servant, but Marik was grateful for it nonetheless.

He stared into the faces of the people he had grown up with, who had once respected him and served him, and the change he saw in them now cut through him like the dagger Paki had threatened him with.

Now, that dagger was looking more and more appealing.

His throat had gone bone-dry and he wondered idly when he had last had a drink of water.

Oh well, he'd just have to wait a little longer.

He might be dead in a few minutes anyways.

"I… I'm not going to beg your forgiveness… I know I don't deserve it for all of the things I've done, but… I do know that you all deserve the truth."

The Tomb-Keeper's did not respond, simply stared at him with hard faces, and he turned to see Fenuku's torn expression, as well as Paki's smug face next to him, and behind them the innocent shock of Monifa as she was held by Sharifa, whose normally lovely eyes were filled with harsh judgments.

Marik had to force his head to stay up, and his eyes to make contact with the others in the room.

"The night I… ran away… that day, Ishizu and I, we… went to the surface. Father knew that we had left, and was beating Odion as punishment. When we got back, we went to help him, but… Odion fell unconscious – I thought he was dead – and… I know this might sound strange, unbelievable even, but… there was a dark presence in my mind, created by my pain and anger and fear… and when I thought Odion had died, the anger took over. I lost control of my mind; I didn't know what was going on. When I… regained consciousness, I found – "

Marik paused abruptly, and his siblings looked at him in concern.

His head was still held high, but he was no longer looking at anyone in particular; rather, he was staring off into space, lost in the memories.

For a moment he didn't speak, didn't move; he simply stared into the dark, and Ishizu noticed his eyes becoming misty, and when she reached to lay a hand on his arm he shivered violently, though it did not break him from his reverie.

When he spoke again, his voice was so full of fear and pain that Ishizu felt she was listening to a child instead of the tall man next to her, "I found my father dead, brutally murdered, and… I didn't know how it had happened."

With that he seemed to break from his trance, and once again tried to focus on the eyes all gazing at him, many with very different looks than they had had only minutes ago.

"I saw a someone then… a spirit who had told Ishizu and I to return home when we ventured outside…. He said my father's death and the pain our family has and would have to suffer was the will of the Pharaoh. So… I left to find the Pharaoh, and take my revenge against him for my father and my family and… myself. I took the Millennium Items to help me in my quest, and I spent many years building a powerful arsenal to help me get revenge. And… and then I found the Pharaoh."

Marik did bow his head then, the shame of his actions towards the powerful yet merciful king catching up to him.

"I used every trick I could think of to gain his power; I was malicious, cruel, deceitful… and a disgrace to our family. But I didn't care then. So long as he suffered, as I had suffered… as our family had suffered… I thought I would be satisfied."

Again he paused, collecting his thoughts, then continued "Odion and I took part in a tournament to defeat the Pharaoh and win his power. Ishizu joined as well to try and stop us. During one of our… fights though, Odion was again struck unconscious, and the evil entity that I created in my mind took over. It was stronger than ever because of all of the resentment and hate I had fueled it with over the years. It completely took over my body, and left my soul drifting from host to host as I tried to fight it. Once I discovered what had truly happened when I was a child – how it was my evil side who murdered my father – I began to let go of my anger, and see things for how they truly were."

He looked out across the room, into every face he could make out as he said, "You'll never know the torment and anguish I went through; how every second was filled with a complete understanding of my sins – a perfect view of what my selfish actions throughout my life had done to those I loved, and to those who didn't deserve to suffer. I was disgusted with myself. Because if there's one thing I've learned while I've been on the surface, it's that no matter what darkness I've had to go through, there's so much goodness in the world that should never have to see those things. Bringing darkness to the light just so it knows what fear and pain is… doesn't solve anything. It only makes the world darker for everyone. But I also found that light can penetrate darkness with more power than darkness can extinguish it, and that's the only way happiness… no, not even happiness… the only way healing can occur; when we let others bring us light, and we search for the light ourselves. That's what my siblings taught me. And… that's what the Pharaoh taught me as well."

Marik looked towards his uncle, hoping to see anything other than the betrayal he had worn earlier. Fenuku looked back at him, deep into his eyes, and Marik saw understanding and, dare he think, forgiveness.

Next to him, Paki stood stiff with his arms crossed over his chest. His entire aura had turned from smug to defensive, but there was still no forgiveness in his face.

"When my dark side faced off against the Pharaoh," Marik continued, still facing his uncle and cousin even as he addressed the whole group, "the Pharaoh fought to save me, despite everything I had done, because he believed that there was still some light in me which didn't deserve to die. I couldn't see it at the time… I was ready to give up."

He looked then at Odion and Ishizu, taking a moment to gaze at each of them with all of the love he could muster as he said "But my siblings wouldn't accept that. They encouraged me and helped me overcome my own self-pity. They helped me look for the tiny spots of light in my life; my family."

Marik smiled once more at them and turned to face everyone else. "Once I was ready to keep living, the Pharaoh was able to destroy my dark side and rid me of the hatred I had carried since childhood. It was then that I gave him the Millenium Items I had taken, and revealed to him the secret of his memories which I carry on my back. He said he would return here to Egypt sometime soon, to complete his journey to the afterlife, and… he… he called me a friend. He thanked me for helping him defeat my own darkness."

His eyes scanned the room, hoping to find… anything; any positive emotion he could latch on to, to help him redeem himself in their eyes.

"So you see, in the end, the Pharaoh forgave me; even though he knew everything I'd done in my past, and despite all the pain and torment I caused him… he was able to forgive me and allow me to start over. I… can't really ask you to do the same, because of what my actions have done to you… but, can't you give me a chance? I want to rescue my family; won't you allow me to make up for the wrongs I committed against you all, and help you escape the life you've been forced into by these invaders in our home?"

There was no response; not even movement among the crowd.

They all seemed to be waiting for something.

"Marik… I believe you." Fenuku's voice was deep and thick with emotion, but there was no hesitation in his words. "And… I forgive you."

"I forgive you as well."

Marik looked to see Sharifa staring at him, her face proud and eyes back to their deep shine, free from the judgments that had filled them earlier.

"I don't forgive you. Not yet." Marik wasn't surprised to hear these words from Paki, but he was surprised by the tone the young man used, specifically its lack of anger and hatred. "I don't completely believe your story, but it seems you've already suffered for your actions. And until I know the truth, that'll have to do. But if what you said is true, than we need to focus on preparing for the Pharaoh, and to do that we need to get rid of the barbarians who are taking over this place. So? Do you have a plan to accomplish that?"

Despite himself, Marik almost smiled at the change in his cousin. He had not expected any sort of support from him, and was amazed by the small miracle that had occurred.

Perhaps Shadi was right; perhaps he could lead these people.

After all, they were still family.

Marik turned to look at Fenuku, who nodded supportively, and Marik took this to mean that the decision making was going to be up to him.

"Well, if you're really willing to help me, I think I have a few ideas…."

* * *

><p>*Author's Note:<p>

Urgh. Another late chapter. I'm not meaning to change the update schedule, really! But I got sick on Sunday and had a fever Monday and Tuesday, and I'm still recovering as I write this, and… I know as a reader you probably don't care, but I'm just saying, I have a life outside of this. Not much of one, but it's something. And things happen beyond my control.

I know, I'm still not happy about it either.

And thanks once again to those who reviewed, favorited, or followed! You're probably tired of hearing me say this, but I really appreciate it! It gives me a reason to work my butt off trying to keep a schedule! I'm horrible at schedules (as you can tell) but it helps me a lot! You're all wonderful! :3

As for the story… I know, more talking. I promise, action will follow in the next chapter. There was just a *lot* of exposition and background to get through before I could justify anyone making any sort of decision or actually doing anything. I hope it didn't get too… Council of Elrond-y though… I don't wanna lose people over a chapter. :/ Please! Stay tuned for next week as we near the conclusion of this story! Not too far to go now! :D


	10. Chapter 10

A Tomb-Keeper's Lot, Chapter 10

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><p>….<p>

It was usually colder in the moon-lit meeting hall; colder than any other part of the tomb at night.

There were normally no torches in this chamber – the round walls were well lit by the bright moon beams radiating into it from the circular opening in the roof.

But now it was well lit in every nook and crevice, providing plenty of light for the men gathered in the space to mingle and dine on their supper.

Jibade sat on cushions against the wall, situated strategically between the two entrances to the chamber, giving him a wide view of the area around him as well as optimal security.

It was just how he liked it.

The fire pit in the middle of the room glowed brightly before him, radiating heat to those gathered around it and bringing the room closer to temperatures it would normally only reach during the day.

Deliciously pungent air wafted towards The Chief from the lamb roasting over the fire, and he languidly leaned back to enjoy the aromas of the cooking meal, reaching for a piece of flat bread from the plate next to him.

As he sat in the crowded chamber, chewing his bread and spitting out the bits of rock that had cooked into it, he took a moment to reflect and inwardly revel in his conquests of the day.

The long-lost Ishtar heir had shown up out of the blue, and had been just as quickly subdued with hardly any effort. Admittedly, obtaining the secret to the Pharaoh's treasure had proven somewhat difficult when he had checked the young man's back and realized he could neither read nor translate ancient Egyptian, but he didn't have to worry about that now. He would simply get the other Tomb-Keeper's to read and translate it for him, and he now had that fool Fenuku to use as collateral. Not only did he have him, he also had the other Ishtar siblings to force Marik's further cooperation.

Jibade smiled. He had almost forgotten about the lovely Ishtar sister who was now stuck in the women's quarters; he would very much enjoy paying her a visit later in the evening.

The meat over the fire crackled and spit, breaking Jibade's reverie and bringing his attention back to the center of the room, where the men seemed to be getting restless waiting for their main dish.

He almost laughed to himself; these men were so easy to please, making them just as easy to manipulate. All he needed to do was provide them some coins and a day's meal, and they were his to command.

Just as he himself was about to stand to take the first pick of meat, there was a commotion from the tunnel on his right.

He perked up, listening intently as sounds of scuffling and protest were becoming audible.

Had one of the men brought a woman for some entertainment? Or was there trouble with one of his new prisoners? He had sent guards down to the embalming room ages ago to remove the now surely broken prisoners and give them a reprieve before the next punishment, but he had not heard back from them for a while.

The Chief couldn't suppress an irritated groan; he was enjoying his evening, and he was _not_ in the mood for it to be soured.

He was in for more than just a souring though, when two large guards stalked into the room, each one firmly grasping an arm of a struggling Marik Ishtar, who (despite having his hands tied in front of him) was putting up a tremendous fight.

Jibade's eyes were like saucers, his eyebrows twitching as he watched the young man stumble into the room, desperately trying to wrench his arms from the firm hands of his captors while shouting at them loudly in ancient Egyptian.

The anger in Marik's voice was unmistakable, even if Jibade couldn't understand what he was saying; he had never bothered with learning any real Egyptian – there were enough people in the tomb who already spoke Arabic, so he has opted to save himself some time and energy.

He was regretting that decision a little now though.

"WHAT is this miscreant doing here? Why have you brought him and not locked him up like I directed?"

And within his mind the thought occurred 'how has he not broken yet?'

One of the guards looked up, and Jibade only vaguely registered that he did not recognize this man; 'no concern though, probably a newer guard.'

"Sir, he demanded to be brought to you. He claims he has something you need, and that the only way you'll get it is if you talk to him."

Jibade scoffed. "Is that so? Well when the prisoner stops shouting gibberish at me, I'd like him to know that I've already seen the thing I apparently 'need' and that I have plenty of time to unravel it's mysteries, with or without his assistance."

Marik glared at the man, disgust plastered across his face. "Well now that's a lie – there are things about those markings that only I know. But that's not really relevant – I never intended to give you information anyways. That was just to get me up here. But now you've crossed a line. How dare you look at those marks! They're not meant for you to see. They're sacred."

The Chief responded with a roll of his eyes. He'd heard that phrase before from Fenuku many times; it seemed everything was sacred to him.

Jibade was growing tired of the word.

"And another thing;" Marik continued, his voice growing stronger and more outraged, "not only do you overrun my home with your goons, but now you're defiling it with unclean food and uncouth behavior."

A derisive laugh erupted from Jibade, and he stood up with a jerk, walking slowly towards Marik with an almost predatory gate.

"Now don't tell me you're going to be like your uncle and start lecturing me on the evils of a good cut of lamb. Tell me boy, wouldn't you like to try some nice, juicy mutton?"

Marik grimaced involuntarily; the now cooked lamb was giving off an even stronger smell than before, and it was starting to make him a little sick.

Even after living in the outside world for so long, it was one thing he still wasn't used to and didn't like.

But he managed to turn his grimace into a sturdy frown, remembering words he had learned from his father as he said in almost chant-like reiteration "As Tomb-Keepers we make sacrifices; we've adopted a purer life style to keep ourselves worthy before the gods. We abstain from meats and strong drinks so that we can better serve the Pharaoh in mind and body. This place is a shrine to the Pharaoh, and we are its priests."

Jibade let loose with another loud laugh, staring down at Marik as he stood before him, saying "Almost word for word; that's exactly what your uncle told me when my men and I first started to… make ourselves _comfortable_ in this Hell-hole. He's said it many times since. Come on boy, it's time to stop living in the past."

The guards held onto Marik firmly yet carefully as he tried to lunge at Jibade, who just laughed in his face; the man reminded Marik too much of himself sometimes – of how he used to be. Obsessed with power, concerned only with his own needs, arrogant, disrespectful… Marik was all too familiar with these traits. Looking at the man before him was like looking into a distorted mirror. At least now the mirror was a little more faded. And he liked to think that even in his darkest moments he had still held more respect for his family's traditions and customs than the man before him did.

At the very least, Marik was trying to do better.

"Why did you even ask then, if apparently you know so much about us? Aren't you supposed to be part of this family? Or have you finally given up on that lie?"

Jibade smirked coolly at Marik, but made no response, instead turning to walk back to his seat by the wall.

He plopped back down onto his cushion and grabbed another piece of bread, tearing some off with his teeth and speaking through his mouthful "Guards, take this… eyesore back to where you found him. Perhaps some more time with the mummies will calm him down. And while you're at it, bring back his brother – you'll think twice about acting up once you see what we have in store for him."

Not expecting the confident smirk that appeared across Marik's face at his words, Jibade lost his concentration over his chewing for a moment, and when Odion's deep baritone voice echoed in from the opposite passage saying "There will be no need for that", Jibade clamped his jaws down firmly and right onto a large rock in the dough, chipping a tooth while his muffled cry of pain was lost in his outraged shout.

Before he could even wrap his head around seeing the tall and muscled older Ishtar stride into the center of the room, his eyes were overwhelmed as what appeared to be _his_ guards swarmed in behind Odion, only to tear off their hoods to reveal the faces of his captive Tomb-Keepers.

They all stood in the center of the room, staring at a now frozen Jibade with icy glares.

The Tomb-Keepers outnumbered Jibade's guards 3 to 1, and as the Chief looked around the room, the growing alarm on his face seemed to show he was aware of the odds.

Marik's smirk grew even wider, and with a flick of his wrists the rope tying his hands fell to the stone floor in a heap, his supposed guards flinging back their hoods as they went to join the rest of their family members.

It took a great deal of will-power to simply walk and not strut arrogantly towards the former Chief, now prone and gawking on the floor, but Marik did indulge himself a little by soundly kicking the rudimentary fire-pit, sending sparks in all directions as the spit fell over, sending the now over-cooked lamb into a bed of ashy coals.

He heard a murmur of approval emanating throughout the crowd behind him.

Stopping about a foot from the shell-shocked man, Marik sat down in front of him, spreading his legs out comfortably as he smiled and said "Well then. Looks like you'll be needing a change of plans, won't you Jibade?"

The man's eyes flickered in recognition, his mind starting to clear.

Marik's smile turned devious as he added "Or should I call you… Fathi?"

At that his eyes unclouded, and he jerked toward Marik spastically, though he didn't actually move any closer.

He sat there, seething, making even the now confident Marik twitch uneasily.

With a hissing intake of breath he shut his eyes tightly, then slowly breathed out, his posture slackening as he did so.

When he again looked at Marik he was no longer fuming, but his anger was still there, bottled up in his eyes.

"Alright Ishtar, what is it you want?"

Marik stared at him, put off by his shifting moods, but managed to respond "For you and your lackeys to leave and never return, and never speak of us to anyone."

The now unmasked Fathi feigned a look of surprise through his anger, and with sarcasm dripping from his voice responded "Oh is that all? Just let me go pack my things and wipe my memory of your little treasure-trove in the middle of the desert, ripe for the picking."

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and he leaned forward, hissing at Marik "I have a better idea; why don't you give me the key to the Pharaoh's gold and I won't kill you. Better yet, I'll take the treasure you useless people hoard off of your hands, and you can have your precious, miserable tomb all to yourselves again."

Marik leaned away from the vicious expression on Fathi's face, though his remained calm and collected as he said quietly, almost to himself "You really don't get it do you? The true treasure of the Pharaoh isn't just something you can dig up from the ground. And even translating the words on my back won't get you any closer to finding his power."

Fathi looked at him skeptically, some of his former ferocity fading into more sarcasm as he asked "And why would that be?"

"You can't just read the words – they're sort of… a coded message. They can only be truly understood by someone who holds the Pharaoh's power, and to do that…" Marik fumbled a moment, wondering how he could possibly explain the intricacies of ancient magic in a way that this greedy man would understand, "you need to prove worthy of it. You have to win it."

For a moment Fathi just sat there, staring at Marik and beyond him. Marik watched him carefully, trying his best to test out the faith that his brother and sister so keenly relied on, hoping that somehow this imposter would see reason and learn that he would never get what he wanted, so he might as well leave.

But there was a wicked smile growing ever so steadily on Fathi's face, and Marik could almost feel what little faith he had flickering out of existence.

"Fine."

Marik paused, caught off guard by the response, and not knowing quite what to make of it; the only response he could think to formulate was "… What?"

"Fine. I'll win it."

His grin spread across his face, and he looked for all the world like a hungry crocodile.

"I challenge you, Marik Ishtar, to a duel."

Confusion worked it's way even deeper into Marik's mind, as well as a hint of panic. Memories of his ordeal during the Battle City Tournament resurfaced – he hadn't been able to handle a game of Duel Monsters since he had surrendered to the Pharaoh, and the very word "duel" brought all of his nightmarish memories back to him.

But somehow he didn't think that card games were what this man had in mind.

"Tonight. Right here. I believe the guards have some suitable weapons for us to use. If I win, that information is mine – as is your life. Oh, I'll wait to get that information before I kill you, don't worry. And if you win, well… you can win by killing me. After that you are free to drive us out, though I suggest that if you want the rest of these men silent as well you'll kill them too."

His guards looked on in alarm, sharing worried glances while their leader only laughed.

"What are you worried about? He's not going to win."

Fathi's predatory grin turned back to Marik, who could only stare back in trepidation. "You don't have it in you. But you have no other options."

Marik stared into the malicious expression on Fathi's face, racking his brain for anything that could get him out of this – any idea that would allow him to get what he wanted without having to fight; but he could find nothing.

A man like Fathi would never agree to another's idea unless he felt it was to his advantage, and he seemed in no mood for negotiating.

It was useless.

Marik could only hope that Fathi would stick to his own terms, and that somehow… _somehow_… he wouldn't have to kill anyone.

"… Alright. I accept."

…..

* * *

><p>*Author's Note:<p>

… I swear, I'm not lying about updating on purpose.

It just… yeah, it's been like, two weeks. Sorry.

Anyways, now that finals are over and I have… basically nothing to do from now until… like… March, I will be focusing a lot more on writing.

Oh, and this story is only about a chapter away from being done. And in honor of Marik Ishtar's birthday, I plan to finish this on December 23rd. So… yeah, not a long wait after all! Exciting!

As always, thanks so much to all those who favorite, follow, read, etc. It's like a Christmas present for my inbox! :3

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion!


	11. Chapter 11

A Tomb-Keeper's Lot, Chapter 11

* * *

><p>Marik grasped the handle of the curved sword that was handed to him, clenching his fingers against the ridges of the leather straps and hoping he would be able to keep his grip despite his sweaty palms.<p>

Fathi stood across from him, the moonlight from the chimney-like roof and flickering torches on the walls casting disturbing shadows across the grinning man's face.

He held his own sword casually in one hand, bringing it up to his face to stare at Marik over its edge.

"I would assume, since you seem to be so in love with your family's traditions, that you are familiar with how to use one of these?" he said coolly, giving the sword a little twirl.

Marik gulped. He had played with toy swords as a child, even had a lesson or two on the occasion he was able to manipulate one of the guards into teaching him, but he seriously doubted any of that would be useful to him now.

He could only hope Fathi had even less experience.

Marik glanced behind him at the Tomb-Keepers gathered against the wall on his side of the room, specifically at Odion and Ishizu, who were standing as close as possible to him without placing themselves in the way of the make-shift arena.

Ishizu's eyes shone with fear for her little brother, and Odion stepped forward slightly, worry etched on his face, wanting nothing more than to battle in Marik's place.

For one selfish moment Marik wished he would.

Tearing his gaze from his family, Marik's eyes darted around the rest of the room, anxious to rest on something other than his opponent; the real guards were lining the walls behind Fathi, some grinning eagerly and others looking a bit more worried, and the torches continued to burn in their mounts, glinting off the metal of the upheld swords.

One torch flared unexpectedly and lit up Marik's blade, catching his eye. He paused to look more closely at his sword: it was old, not quite from ancient times but made in that likeness, with a curved, sickle-like blade. The leather wrapping the pommel looked fairly new – these weapons were probably more for looks than practical use.

But there was something special about this weapon; the hilt was bronze and intricately molded into the shade of a bird with its wings outstretched.

And it wasn't just any bird. It was the phoenix incarnation of Ra, god of the sun.

Marik's breath hitched. There was the Winged Dragon of Ra, staring at him with ruby eyes from the hilt of his sword.

And here he was, once again fighting with the divine phoenix on his side.

This time however, he wasn't fighting for himself. He was fighting for his family.

He hoped that Ra would acknowledge his change of heart and give him the success he had been unable to achieve when they had battled the Pharaoh.

A chuckle from the man across from him drew his attention, and he looked to see Fathi smiling cruely at him, throwing his sword from one hand to the other with obvious anticipation.

"Ready boy? Or are you rethinking your decision? I knew you weren't man enough to fight me."

Marik clenched his teeth. He had no desire to banter with this low-life. "Let's just do this."

Fathi grinned in response, and then lunged towards Marik with his sword outstretched.

Marik quickly sidestepped him, his own sword held shakily in front of his body, pointed towards his opponent defensively.

The other man righted himself, his back arching and cracking as he turned again towards Marik. He smiled, apparently amused at the outcome of his assault. He took a few steps towards the younger man, who stepped away accordingly.

"Is this how the rest of the battle is going to be: with you running away, while I back you into a corner? Hardly conducive to an honorable win, wouldn't you agree? I don't know about you, but I plan to win."

He swung at Marik tauntingly, and the blonde barely managed another dodge.

Marik grit his teeth in irritation. He hated having to fight this man, but he hated his cowardice more.

His family was depending on him. The future of the clan was depending on him.

And in that way, the Pharaoh was depending on him too.

His grip on the sword tightened, the ruby eyes of Ra seeming to glow in the moonlight.

He would not let the Pharaoh down again.

So when Fathi came at him, swinging broadly, Marik swung out decisively to parry.

The blades met with a clang and Marik found himself pushed back a few feet.

Fathi laughed, saying "Nice try, but that's hardly fighting back."

Marik suppressed a growl, and attempted a swing himself.

Fathi easily dodged.

"Really, it's like you don't even care."

Once again Marik found himself fuming at the former Chief. His face heated up in anger – anger so intense it made his body tremble and his head throb.

He hadn't felt like this since before the Battle City Tournament. Since before he was saved.

His eyes darkened, and the man before him seemed to morph in his vision; his hair turned pale and stood on end, a glowing eye appeared on his forehead, and a malevolent smirk stretched from ear to ear, threatening to tear the psychotic face in half.

Marik could no longer distinguish between his nightmares and reality; he could hardly think at all.

With a yell he charged forward, swinging wildly at his opponent.

Fathi looked shocked as the young man attacked him, and though he expertly blocked each attack, his face no longer held a cocky smirk.

"How – DARE - you!" Marik gasped between swings, blood pumping loudly in his ears, "You know – nothing about us! You're a disgrace! You don't deserve – to – live!"

Their blades met again, and this time Marik managed to push Fathi off balance, sending the man to the floor. The man stared up at him, fear starting to show in his eyes as he struggled to get up, tripping on the edges of his robe.

Marik glared at him, at the pathetic little man on the floor, the one who had caused his people so much suffering while he was gone, and his vision darkened as shadows seemed to fill the room. His family would suffer no more. They would be avenged.

And the shadows would feast on Fathi's soul in the underworld.

He raised his sword high, ready to swing it down and lob the despicable man's head off, but a movement across the room caught his eye. He looked up, and his eyes locked onto the worried expressions of Odion and Ishizu.

The siblings stared at each other across the room, and Marik stopped with his sword still raised.

Because it wasn't just worry in their eyes, it was fear: fear for him.

And suddenly the shadows cleared from his view, and he stumbled back, almost dropping his sword in the shock of what he was about to do.

He was ready to kill in anger, for revenge… just as he had done during Battle City.

He almost gave in to darkness.

His eyes grew wide, still staring at his siblings, but now their gazes were filling with love and understanding.

They knew what he was feeling; they understood his anger, and they didn't blame him for it.

But their eyes told him something else as well: they knew he could do better.

And looking into their eyes, he knew he could too.

Marik lowered his sword and looked back at Fathi, who was staring at him curiously and calculatingly from his spot on the floor.

"Well?" The man said slowly, "you've got your chance. Aren't you going to finish your attack?"

"Not like this…" Marik said quietly, forcing himself to look Fathi in the eyes and willing himself to stay calm. "Come on, get up. You've still got your sword, so this duel is still on."

Fathi gave him another curious look, but he picked himself up off the floor anyways, dusting off his robe and flexing his shoulders. He lifted his sword and swung it around, readjusting to its weight.

In the pause, Marik took a moment to search his memories, trying to remember what he had learned from the guards on fighting: keep a good grip, keep your arms close to your body, keep your swings tight so your weapon is not far from you, use the curve of the blade to your advantage… it was coming back to him.

He dug his foot into the floor, testing the texture of it as he tried to figure out how quick he could move without slipping; there was a layer of sand on the floor, but the rough texture of the stone kept it from being a hindrance, and his boots easily found traction.

Fathi began to move towards him taunting "A mistake if you ask me, but no matter; your loss", and Marik remembered another tip: keep your eyes on your opponent's body – not his face. His face will try to trick you, but his body will betray his next move.

Sure enough, a slight twinge in Fathi's left shoulder caught his attention, and he quickly and accurately parried the man's swing.

Fathi sneered, but Marik didn't pay him too much attention. Instead, he watched the slight movement in Fathi's right leg and lept to the side as the man charged him.

Marik swung at the man's side but was intercepted. The metal shrieked as the swords slid across each other and Marik had to force himself not to wince, trying to keep his eyes open and alert.

They continued fighting in this manner for what seemed like hours to Marik, though the moon barely moved in the blue sky above the tomb.

They swung, parried, and dodged, neither one placing any blows.

But Fathi was slowly getting fiercer with his attacks, and Marik was becoming fatigued.

He couldn't go on much longer.

He needed a plan to win.

Marik spared a quick glance across the room at his family, and then swung his sword to intercept Fathi's swing. But he hadn't been paying close enough attention, and the curved blades were now interlocked, bringing his opponent dangerously close.

The move surprised Fathi, and he tugged impatiently at the blades, almost tearing the sword out of Marik's grip.

And then it hit Marik; a way to win this duel without bloodshed.

With renewed force he swung his arm in a circular motion, and Fathis' sword moved with his and slid past, causing the two to unhook.

But Fathi kept a firm grip on his sword.

Both men stepped back, breathing hard and sweating, and each wanting the duel to end.

Marik needed a way to distract Fathi, but the man was keeping a close eye on him.

He needed help.

Suddenly he felt a pulsing in his fingers, and looked down to see the ruby eyes of Ra gleaming in the sword's bronze hilt.

And he knew what he needed to do.

Across from him Fathi was twitching with anticipation, getting ready to lunge and end this duel, but suddenly Marik did something wholly unexpected.

He closed his eyes.

Marik breathed deeply, clearing his mind and focusing instead on the image of a shining, golden, fiery bird. He opened his mouth slightly, and with just the slightest tremor in his voice whispered "Great Beast of the sky…"

He distantly heard an angry cry, and the shuffling sound of feet running on sand, but he paid it no heed.

This would work. It would be alright.

He had faith.

"… please hear my cry."

A warmth enveloped him, and the sound of running ceased.

Marik cracked his eyes open slightly, and they shot wide as he saw himself enveloped in a golden light.

Fathi stared at him in fear and confusion; he had never encountered anything like this.

A hot wind blew through the chamber, and suddenly the torches along the walls burst into pillars of flame which scorched the stones above them and elicited yells and gasps from the spectators gathered nearby.

Marik raised his sword again, the glow around him softening, but the pillars of fire continued to burn bright, and the hilt of Marik's sword caught the light and reflected it all around the room in rays of gold and red.

Disbelief was written across Fathi's face, and it was becoming more and more mixed with viscious anger.

"WHAT are you DOING!?"

Marik stared at his opponent, suppressing the wonderment building inside him and said "I'm not doing anything. What you're seeing is the power of the Egyptian Gods, and they're on my side."

Fathi's look was incredulous, but fear still shook his voice as he said "What kind of nonsense is this? What's going on!?"

The pyres continued to blaze, and Marik stared at Fathi, more sure and at peace than he had been in a long time.

"If you won't even believe your own eyes, then I'm not going to bother explaining it to you. Just know this: you're going to lose."

Fathi's eyes burned with unbridled rage and with a furious bellow he charged Marik one more time; but that was just what Marik wanted.

As Fathi reached him, Marik swung, his blade hooking the others, and with unbelievable strength – strength beyond that of a man – he wrenched the sword from his opponents grasp and skillfully swung it around to grab the handle with his free hand.

Fathi stumbled past him, yelling in outrage and pain and clutching his right shoulder while his arm hung limp by his side.

Marik turned to face him, Ra's glow gone from around him, and with another blast of warm air all of the torches in the chamber were extinguished, bathing the room in a circle of moonlight.

The two men stared each other down, Fathi's face still full of anger, and Marik's full of relief.

The young man slumped forward; he knew he had been lent strength by Ra near the end, and now that it was gone he once again felt the fatigue of his day's adventures wearing on his body.

Despite his weariness however he still found strength to lift both swords and point them at his opponent, saying firmly "I win."

…

* * *

><p>*Author's Note: (No, this story isn't finished yet)<p>

… I'm a horrible person.

I deeply apologize to all of my followers and reviewers who have been eagerly awaiting the updates to this and have been constantly and cruelly disappointed every time I miss a deadline.

Seriously, why do I even put an update schedule on here? I never stick to it!

And I know I said there would just be one more chapter of this story, but… there's gonna be at least one more after this. I was trying to write this all as one chapter, but so far I'm at 4,000 words and I'm not even done… So I'm gonna split it in half and post the rest of it (hopefully) tomorrow.

My goal (after I failed the 'Marik's birthday' thing) is now to have this done before the end of the year.

I can still make it, as long as I finish writing this thing tonight.

And post it before midnight tomorrow. :/

What is my problem?


	12. Chapter 12

A Tomb-Keeper's Lot, Chapter 12

* * *

><p>"I win."<p>

Fathi stared at him, but his expression wasn't nearly as bitter or angry as Marik would have expected.

It unnerved him.

"Well?"

Marik stiffened, not expecting such a response. "Well what? I've won. You have to leave."

Fathi shrugged nonchalantly, saying "Oh I can leave, but, like I said earlier, there's no way you can keep me from talking. You're going to have to kill me."

"No."

Fathi's eyes widened at Marik's exclamation, and even Marik was surprised at how intensely he was protesting.

But he simply couldn't respond any other way, because the truth was… he wanted this man dead.

And a small part of him wanted to be the one to kill him.

Marik had already ruled that option out.

"There's no way you can stay here, and if I can't guarantee your silence… I'm just going to have to take that chance."

There was a murmur around the room as the other Tomb Keeper's reacted to Marik's pronouncement, and many sounded upset.

But Marik wasn't giving in. It wasn't up for debate.

Very loudly and clearly Marik said to the room, though directed at Fathi, "I'm not going to kill you."

With one final look at the former Chief, Marik turned and began to walk back to his family, masking his relief.

Behind his back a wicked, gloating smirk was growing on Fathi's face, and Marik missed his whispered "Wrong decision boy", as well as the hand reaching into a fold of his robe.

But someone else saw it.

"Marik! Look out!"

Marik had barely turned around when suddenly he heard a loud bang, and at the same time was knocked over by a large, sturdy figure which pushed him to the ground and lay holding him protectively.

He opened his eyes quickly, looking around to piece together what had happened, and brought a hand to rub at the back of his head where it had impacted with the ground.

Looking next to him, he was met with the face of his brother who had pushed him, and noticed Odion's face scrunched up in excruciating pain.

Time stopped as Marik struggled to understand what had just occurred.

"Odion… what – "

There was a gasp across the room, and Ishizu ran over to the two, kneeling next to Odion and pulling him towards her, resting his head on her lap while she looked him over.

What she found made her cry out in anguish.

There was a small, dark hole on Odion's left side, from which a constant flow of dark red blood oozed.

Ishizu quickly removed her shawl and pressed it to the wound, causing Odion to gasp in pain, but the blood flow did not stop.

Marik stared at his brother in shock, unable to comprehend what was happening, and a wicked laugh drew his attention back to Fathi.

The man was still on the ground, but he now held a small gun in his hand, the barrel still smoking slightly as he held it up; looking past the gun Marik saw a sick grin on the man's face as he said "That shot was meant to hit you, not your brother, but I suppose this is better than nothing."

The throbbing in his head was returning as Marik's vision grew red, but just as he tried to stand he felt a gentle pressure on his arm, and looked down to see Odion's pain-filled eyes gazing into his.

"Please, brother…" he wheezed out, cringing as he took a breath, "don't seek revenge."

"But Odion, you can't expect me to – "

"I – I chose to do this. There is no purpose to hurting him when it is my own fault I am lying here. But… I wouldn't have it any other way."

Marik grasped Odion's hand, gripping it tightly – too tightly – as he gazed helplessly into his brother's golden eyes.

"Odion…" he whispered, disbelief in his voice, "You don't have to keep doing this! You don't have to keep suffering for me… I don't want that!"

Odion shook his head slightly, even though it was obvious the motion hurt him, "Marik… it is my duty."

"You're not a servant anymore!" Marik shouted, with more anger in his voice than he meant to show.

But Odion merely smiled serenely, and gripped Marik's hand even tighter, saying "No… but I am your brother. And that's what brothers do."

Tears were falling freely from Marik's eyes now, falling onto their joined hands, and suddenly Marik was hit with a distant memory he had not been able to fully recall before; of lying on a hard cold bed while his body burned with fever from a snake bite, of glimpsing his brother approaching with a hateful expression that he had never before seen directed at him. He remembered apologizing for getting Odion in trouble, and then he called him 'brother', and Odion had grasped his small and shaking hand and fell to his knees, bathing their hands in his tears as he promised to always protect the little boy.

He surfaced from these memories with a start, and his eyes once again focused on Odion, whose own eyes were now closed.

And he looked deathly still.

"Odion!" Marik shouted with a raw voice, leaning over the man and grasping his shoulders, "Odion! Wake up! Please Odion, don't leave me!"

He shook Odion's shoulders harshly, not even noticing the tears pouring down his face or the gasping sobs escaping his throat.

When a hand was placed on his shoulder from behind he whirled around quickly with a murderous glare, ready to strike out at whoever dared disturb his time with his brother.

But the concerned and slightly fearful face of Monifa was all that met his eyes, and he recoiled in shame a bit at the fury he had directed at the innocent girl.

Despite his violent attitude she knelt beside him, carefully removing his hands from Odion's shoulders and taking Ishizu's shawl off of the wound.

Marik watched in confusion and fear, gasping "Monifa, what are you – "

"I'm sorry Master Marik, but you mustn't disturb him so much, and I cannot help him if his wound is covered."

The confusion deepened on Marik's face, but he made no move to stop the girl as she placed both of her hands directly onto Odion's wound and closed her eyes, her voice drifting on the cold night air as she whispered in ancient Egyptian.

Listening closely, Marik could tell that Monifa was chanting an ancient prayer of healing, and as he continued to watch he saw a light gleaming from under her hands, as if it was shining in the wound itself.

From behind them he heard someone speaking, and vaguely registered it as Fathi's usual sarcastic tone.

"It's no use you fools. You don't have the means to treat a bullet wound – I doubt you even know what a bullet is anyways. You don't have the means to treat him here, so you might as well give up. Or better yet, leave and take him with you. As much as I enjoy watching you suffer, you're whining is starting to annoy me."

Marik's attention was focused on Odion, but he spared a withering glance at the man behind him, shouting testily to the other Tomb-Keepers "Someone bind him please, and gag him while you're at it. We don't have time for him."

A few of the larger Tomb-Keepers ran up eagerly, pulling lengths of rope from their belts as they wrestled with Fathi. They quickly disarmed him (though his gun seemed empty anyways) and bound his wrists, finishing by wrapping the rope around him to bind his arms as well.

"What – what do you think you're doing?! Unhand me! This won't change a thing you idiots! We're stronger than you! Guards! Do something!"

But the guards remained standing by the walls, squirming uncomfortably as they were stared down by the Tomb-Keepers they had been oppressing for so long.

Fathi stared in disbelief as they made no move to aide him, and he barely fought back as they tied a gag tightly over his mouth.

His eyes though continued to gleam with a burning hate at Marik, even as the Tomb-Keepers stood beside him, tall and imposing in the moonlight.

Marik couldn't care less about that man's hate however; his brother had not made a move for many long minutes, and his anxiety was deepening.

Suddenly Monifa's hands clenched over the wound, and Odion stirred with a cry, his eyes scrunching up in pain.

Ishizu laid a soft hand on his head to calm him and Marik turned curiously towards Monifa to see what had happened.

She lifted a hand and opened it toward him, and resting on her palm was a small bullet still covered in blood.

"I've removed the weapon, but his wound is still open. Please, keep him calm while I finish."

Marik nodded slowly and took Odion's hand again, holding it gently now in a calming gesture, but he kept his eyes on Monifa as she placed her hand back onto Odion's side.

There seemed to be blood everywhere, but Monifa was unfazed as she concentrated on the ancient recitation which streamed from her lips with a quiet power.

Odion twitched and grunted as she worked, and Marik hoped that it meant the spell was working.

But he had never seen healing magic used on such a large scale; usually the priests and priestesses of the tomb were only able to heal scrapes or sooth wounds, and even fight infections on occasion, but never had their magic been used to heal an injury like this.

He wondered how his young cousin held so much power.

Minutes passed, and nothing seemed to be happening save that Monifa was growing more and more exhausted. Sweat ran down her face and her eyes scrunched up as she pressed her hands more firmly against the opening.

Odion was not faring much better; he cried out in pain several times, convulsing wildly every so often. Marik placed his leather jacket under his brother's head to keep him from hitting it against the stone floor, and Ishizu rubbed his head soothingly, wiping away the sweat from his brow with her discarded shawl.

The rest of the Tomb-Keepers had gathered around the small group on the floor, watching in awe and bewilderment as the three worked to save the badly injured man, whom many of them had only ever considered a stranger.

Monifa's chanting rose in intensity, and Marik tore his gaze from his brother's face to watch as she opened her eyes slowly, still staring at the spot where her hands met, and in a triumphant shout she finished the ancient prayer as white light burst from the wound.

Odion gasped loudly in pain and shot up slightly, but then he lay back, breathing out slowly.

"Odion?" Marik called softly, his worried eyes searching his brother's face for any sign of comprehension; his relief was immeasurable as the older man stirred slightly, his eyes cracking open and looking from Marik to Ishizu, a small smile growing on his face.

Ishizu laughed happily through her tears and bent forward to hug her brother. He lifted his hand slowly and gently placed it on her shoulder as she cried in relief onto his chest.

Marik released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and went to embrace his brother as well, but movement next to him caught his attention, and he reacted just in time to catch Monifa about the shoulders as she slumped towards the floor.

He leaned her against his shoulder and noticed that she was breathing heavily. "Cousin… are you alright?"

She stirred slightly and lifted her head to look blearily at his face. "I… think so. At least… I will be. That was… a very deep wound. There were… injured organs, but… they've been taken care of… and… he has… regained much of his blood."

She collapsed further against him, and he carefully draped his arm across her back to offer her more support. His free hand sought hers, which he vaguely noticed were no longer bloody, and he grasped her cold fingers in his, trying to transfer some warmth and life to them.

"Monifa… thank you. That was amazing, and brave… we are in your debt."

With a weary shake of her head she looked back into his eyes, her vitality returning as she said with a smile "Nonsense. We are family, and we protect each other. Isn't that right… Cousin?"

But she was not looking at Marik; her eyes were locked with Odion's, who stared unbelieving back.

No one in this place, save Marik and Ishizu and their deceased mother, had ever addressed him as family.

And it was only recently that he had even accepted his place as their sibling.

To hear it now, from another member of the clan, was something that Odion would never have dreamed could happen, but was what he had hoped for since childhood.

He sat up slowly, careful not to jar his newly healed injury, and stared at Monifa with shock and barely concealed joy.

Marik watched him, and it was as if he were seeing a younger Odion – one who had not had to experience the torture and servitude he had as a child; one who finally had the love and acceptance he had sought his entire life.

Lifting his eyes, Marik looked around the room at the other clan members, his expression hard as if daring them to recant Monifa's words.

But no one said a thing.

Instead they all watched in respectful silence, and many had smiles on their faces and relief in their eyes.

Even Paki, whom Marik was sure would have some sort of retort, said nothing; in fact as Marik watched him their eyes met, and the young man gazed at him, considering, before his lip quirked up and he offered Marik a sincere smile.

It wasn't until this moment that Marik felt he could actually love these people; that he could honestly and openly love the rest of his family.

They had indeed come a long way.

'Marik….'

Marik twitched as a voice sounded in his mind: Shadi's voice. He looked around fervently, but the spirit was nowhere to be found, and it didn't seem as if anyone else had heard him.

'Marik, you have done well. You have gained the respect of this people and can now take your place as their leader. You have proven yourself worthy in the eyes of the gods to help return the Pharaoh's soul to where it belongs. Now you can truly begin your preparations to guide him to that place.'

As he stood with Ishizu and helped the shaky Odion to his feet, Marik pondered Shadi's words.

Venturing a question, he concentrated hard and thought 'But do you really think I can lead? I've made so many mistakes….'

The answer came clearly to his mind 'And you have also learned much. No leader has all of the answers; those will come to you with time, and with the help and guidance of those around you. Your family will help you return order to this place, and you will lead them out of the dark into prosperity.'

Marik embraced Monifa tightly, whispering a heartfelt thank you into her ear before handing her off to her father who held her gently, a proud gleam in his eye.

He turned then and all but tackled Odion in a hug, hiding his eyes in his brother's shirt while the older man returned the embrace, resting his chin on his little brother's head.

Despite his joy, there was a nagging thought at the back of his mind, and he once again sent out a thought: 'Shadi, we need to get rid of Fathi and his men.'

'What would you have me do?' The spirit replied.

Marik was still for a moment, pondering the question, then thought 'If we remove them from this place, can you erase their memories? Perhaps give them some alternate ones so they don't get suspicious, but erase all knowledge of us and this place? I refuse to kill any of them, but we're not safe while they still know of us.'

There was silence for a moment in his mind, and then the answer came 'It is a good plan. Yes, I will make it so. They will be unconscious while I work with their minds, and you can take them a far distance from here during that time. I will make sure they do not return again.'

Marik smiled, glad that at the moment their hardships were over. 'Thank you.'

Behind him there was a chorus of thuds echoing in the room, and he looked to see that all of the guards, including Fathi, had fallen unconscious to the ground.

Fenuku watched, stunned, then turned to Marik saying "What do you suppose has happened?"

Marik smiled knowingly, saying "We've had some help from a friend." He turned his attention to the group of Tomb-Keepers, his family, and said strongly "Everyone, I'm going to need your assistance to get these trespassers out of our home."

...…..

Fathi awoke to blinding sunlight and a painful crick in his back.

Looking around, he found that he and a group of his treasure-hunting companions were all seated against an old building outside of a small village, apparently fallen asleep after their travels.

He struggled to remember where it was they had traveled from… they had been in the desert… there might have been some ruins… but then he remembered.

There was nothing out there.

Only a few old rocks that weren't worth a lick of salt.

For a moment he wondered where the rest of his troupe was, and realized that, since they were so near a town, the men had probably returned to their wives and families with whatever treasures they had found in their last raid.

So Fathi shrugged, rose to his feet, brushed the sand from his slacks, and headed into town to listen for clues to the next site of ancient treasure.

...…..

It was many hours before Marik was finally able to sleep, collapsing onto the woven mattress the other Tomb-Keeper's had set out for him and his siblings in an empty room.

He thought, though he couldn't be sure, that it was his old room they were now staying in.

There was nothing homey about the place, nor even anything to set it apart from the other stone rooms or make it anything special, but Marik paused and looked around at it with almost reverent silence.

His life down here had been painful, hopeless, and dark; and though nothing had changed in this place physically since he had been small, it didn't feel the same anymore.

Because all of this blackness and pain had made him who he was, and though it had caused great suffering for him and his family, they were all so much stronger because of it.

Marik couldn't really say he would take any of it back; because without it, he wouldn't be here.

His brother had helped him see that he needed to be here.

And now… he actually _wanted_ to be.

He looked to the side, seeing Odion and Ishizu already asleep in their beds near to his, and he smiled.

He had all that he needed in life: new friends who were willing to forgive his wrongs, his loving siblings by his side, a family to stand behind him – a home.

Marik didn't know how long they would stay here; there were still many things to prepare before the Pharaoh arrived. But he would remain with these people and help them regain their lives.

He would help them find happiness, because they had helped him redefine himself.

No longer did he worry about his place in the world, no longer did he hate the tunnels where he had been born, no longer did he curse his destiny and the paths it had presented him… no longer did he fear himself.

And though he still cringed a bit when all the lights went out, he knew that it would be alright.

He overcame his inner demons, and with his family beside him he would continue to be the victor.

Because the darkness was gone from him, and he would make sure it was gone from the Tomb-Keeper's forever.

It would take years – generations even – to bring the Tomb-Keeper's fully into the light, but they would see it.

And their children would live under the sun's rays and flourish and thrive, and never have to suffer as he had.

And for him, that was enough.

The End

* * *

><p>*Author's Note:<p>

It's finished! It's finally finished!

You have *NO* idea how much I agonized over this last chapter. It's been eating at me for weeks because I wanted to get it just right, but I just got stuck so many times. However, I finally worked out the kinks, and now it's done!

I'm so happy with this story – It's been a labor of love, and I'm really proud of it. I might go back someday and tweak some of the earlier chapters to fit better with the later ones (since I wrote those *considerably* earlier) but for now it is what it is, and I'm fine with that. I really do love the Ishtar's, and it was fun creating a world for them and sort of… filling in the blanks in their story as it were. They really are an amazing bunch of characters, and they've really inspired me – not only in writing, but in my personal life. I hope you readers can see that they really do mean a lot to me.

And I know that might sound kind of weird since they're just characters from a children's cartoon, but… seeing as how I just wrote 30,000 words about them, it's probably not news to you.

And if you actually took the time to read those 30,000 words, you must take them pretty seriously too.

Thank you so much to those who stuck with it to the end. Your words of encouragement really helped me get through this, and I'm so grateful!

And please, keep an eye out for more stories concerning the Ishtar's (and especially Marik) in the future!

***Extras:

In case any of you were wondering about some of the loose ends in this story (which were kind of on purpose cuz I mostly wanted to focus on Marik and his personal journey), here are some tasty tidbit extras regarding some of the minor characters that I didn't have time (or space) to include, as well as some of the personal head-canons I created going into this story:

Najja (The original Chief) had been heavily influenced by the outside world when he had gone up, and had unknowingly influenced many of the Tomb-Keepers; namely Marik's father. He had told him early on of some of the people out there, which is how Marik's father became aware of the name 'Malik' and its meaning of 'king' and 'power' and all that. Having… egotistically high hopes for his son, he named him this 'grand' name, though he changed it a bit to make it more suited to their Egyptian language.

Badru (who was the head guard and showed up at the beginning) was actually quite devoted to protecting the Tomb-Keeper's and took his position very seriously – he wasn't that bad of a guy, just misled, so Shadi didn't wipe his memories, and in fact let him stay in his position as head guard. This also occurred with several of the Arabic women (who knows exactly where they were from) that were wives or concubines against their will – they were allowed to stay with the Tomb-Keeper's if Shadi found the sincere desire to in their minds.

Fenuku took his position as Chief of the clan for a while, but later passed that responsibility to Sharifa (being the former Chief's eldest child – since the major cultural influence Fathi originally brought was now gone, the Tomb-Keeper's had a slight period of reform where they went back to more ancient Egyptian ideals, allowing a woman to be Chief. And Marik fully endorsed giving her that position, since he knew she was a strong leader and understood the clan and their needs better than most, so that also helped. Paki was a little miffed but didn't dare cross his sister, so he just waited till she grew old and passed the position to him – by that time the Tomb-Keeper's had settlements above ground, though he and many others still preferred to live in the tomb.)

While Marik was working to help rebuild the clan, he held a more powerful position than the Chief in terms of 'final word', but he was smart and referred to their judgment often. As he got older though, he kind of backed off and let them run themselves.

Monifa took up the highly respected role of the Tomb-Keeper's Healer and Priestess, and was never interested in the position of Chief.


End file.
